Be Still My Beating Heart
by Royalty09
Summary: A brutal home invasion leaves Vanessa Martinez in a catatonic state. When she awakens she is put under the care of Dr. Jonathan Crane. Will she come to wish she'd never woken up?
1. Chapter 1

Vanessa didn't arrive home until late that Friday night. The day itself had been rather uneventful. She'd been IT Director at Gotham University for about six months now and, as usual, the system had decided to crash at 4:30 that afternoon. By 11:00 that evening she'd managed to get things up and running again. Just before midnight she pulled into the driveway of their two bedroom townhouse in what could be considered mid-town Gotham although it was a little too close to the Narrows for her liking. Still it was a quiet area and she truly loved her home. Closing the front door behind her she made her way up the stairs to the master bedroom. Her husband was already fast asleep. Quietly she changed into her nightgown and crept into bed beside him as not to disturb his slumber. Rolling onto her side she saw that road below illuminated by street lamps. Snow had just begun to fall and she slowly drifted off to sleep as she watched the flakes hit the ground.

Sometime later (she had no idea how long she'd been asleep) she was awoken by an ear shattering pop. Completely disoriented she sat up in bed. The lights were on and two armed men wearing ski masks rushed her.

"Dan!" she cried out.

Her husband gave no response. Looking to her right she could see the reason why. He was still lying in bed, his eyes closed, sleeping peacefully save for the bullet hole that marred the center of his forehead.

"Oh my god!" she wailed as the men pulled her from bed. Her hands were bound behind her back and she was thrown into a chair in the corner of the room. Vanessa's mind reeled. She was unable to accept the events playing out before her very eyes. The men ransacked the house, moving from room to room and taking anything of value. Hadn't anyone heard the gunshot? Do the police even come to anyone's aid in Gotham anymore? Dan still lay on the bed. His pillow was now soaked with blood from the exit wound of the bullet. Vanessa was about to leave her seat and go to him when the men returned. She gave them both a quick look over trying to remember as much about their physical appearance as possible without making it obvious she was doing so. The man who had tied her up was the taller and leaner of the two. His large brown eyes actually looked kind. "I guess eyes aren't always the mirror to the soul" she thought. The other man was short and stocky. He also seemed to be the older of the two. His gravely voice told her that he had smoked many a cigarette in his day. Both men were Caucasian.

"The place is cleaned out. Let's get out of here before the cops show up.", the stocky man said.

The leaner man turned to his partner and said, "Cops don't come out this way anymore. Besides, we haven't taken everything of value yet."

He approached her and ran his hands up her thighs spreading her legs apart in the process. Vanessa kicked at him with all her strength. A few well placed kicks managed to knock him off balance and he fell to the floor. If he wanted a fight he'd come to the right place. She didn't realize it until now but she had been screaming obscenities and cursing at him since the moment he'd put his hands on her.

"God damn it. Shut this bitch up." He yelled to his partner.

Then she felt it. At first she didn't know what is was until the stocky man began to twist it tighter around her face. It was a black garbage bag and Vanessa was no longer getting any air. Every attempt to breath yielded nothing but a mouth or nose full of plastic. The lean man threw her to the floor. His quick hands tore at her nightgown. It was hard to believe but he was the least of her concerns at the moment. Her lungs screamed for air and she began to convulse violently. As her body gave out and she faded away she heard the sound of laughter and what she thought might be a police siren in the distance.

**2 weeks later**

"Where am I?"

The nurse standing in her room jumped a foot upon hearing the unexpected question.

"You're at Gotham General. My name is Julie. We're so glad that you're back with us. How are you feeling?"

For who knows how long Vanessa had been replaying the events of that night in a dream like state. She wasn't prepared to be back in reality and it hit her hard. Ignoring the nurse's inquiries she began to sob uncontrollably.

"Where's my husband? Is he OK?"

Julie paused briefly as if unsure of what to say. Finally she replied, "I'm sorry. By the time the police arrived it was too late. I'm afraid he's gone."

Vanessa closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around herself protectively and began to rock back and forth. "It was my fault." she said. "I was the last one home. I was supposed to double check all the locks and I forgot. It's all my fault."

The heart rate monitor by her bed indicated that her pulse and blood pressure were rising rapidly. The subsequent alarms that sounded only served to agitate her more. Julie backed out of the room. Clearly sensing she was in over her head.

"I'm going to page Dr. Crane. Just try to relax. I'll be right back."

Vanessa was alone again. She stared into the mirror on the wall across from her. She barely recognized the woman that looked back. Her black hair lay flat, nearly plastered to her head. She guessed it hadn't been washed or combed since that night. Her hazel eyes looked dull and faded. They were blood shot and framed by dark circles. She was as pale as a ghost with the exception on two red lines running across her forehead and the bridge of her nose. Four large scratches loomed dangerously close to her right eye and her neck was still swollen and bruised. That was only the external damage. Internally was a much more complicated story. She decided to focus on the external for now. Had she been scratched by one of her attackers? She didn't think so. Vanessa was still contemplating the issue when the door to her room opened again. Julie had returned and this time a young man was with her. This must be Dr. Crane she thought. Only he hardly looked old enough to be a Dr. If she had to guess she would say he was in his mid-twenties, maybe five years younger than her. Glasses framed his startling blue eyes. He was dressed in a charcoal grey suit with a white dress shirt and a blue tie that accented his eyes nicely. He held himself with such a degree of calm and serenity that Vanessa felt herself immediately begin to relax just watching him.

Before Julie could make an introduction Dr. Crane pushed past her and placed his hand over Vanessa's.

"Mrs. Martinez, I'm Dr. Jonathan Crane. I'm Director of Arkham Asylum and I'll be overseeing your treatment personally. I want you to know that I'm here for you whenever you need me."

"Am I going to the asylum?" she asked. "I'm not crazy."

"I don't doubt that for a minute Mrs. Martinez. You'll be transferred to Arkham's minimum security wing. You won't have any contact with the criminally insane I can assure you. However, I do feel you need inpatient care, at least in the beginning. You've been through a terrible ordeal."

"I know. Julie told me what happened. My husband is dead." Vanessa chocked on those last words as tears welled in her eyes.

Dr. Crane broke eye contact with Vanessa for the first time since he'd entered the room. His gaze turned to Julie in that moment, flashing her a look that could kill. Julie shifted her weight from foot-to-foot finally focusing her eyes on the floor to avoid looking at him. Dr. Crane turned his attention back to Vanessa.

"In any event, you'll be moved to Arkham as soon as I consult with your physician and get the OK for your release. That could be as early as two days from now. In the mean time please take my card. It has my office number and on the back you'll find my home and cell phone numbers. Please don't hesitate to call me at any time."

"Thank you Dr. Crane. I appreciate that more than you know."

He squeezed her hand lightly before turning to leave the room. As he opened the door and stepped into the hallway he turned to Julie.

"May I have a word with you outside please nurse?"

Julie followed Dr. Crane down the hall. When they were little more than ten paces from Vanessa's door he stopped her short.

"Tell me Julie….Are you a doctor?"

"No Dr. Crane. I'm an R.N."

"Yes, I see. That's what your name tag indicates. So tell me Julie, where do you get off informing a patient who has just awakened from a catatonic state that her husband has been murdered before obtaining a psychiatric consult?"

His cold blue eyes drilled into her so deeply that she felt her resolve start to slip. Holding back tears she managed to say, "I'm sorry Dr. Crane. I just thought that she needed to know."

"I'm the one that does the thinking around here, not you. Is that clear?"

"Yes Dr. Crane" she replied.

"Good. I want her placed under suicide watch for her remaining days at this hospital and make sure that order carries over to her stay at Arkham as well. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yes, but do you really think that's necessary? She doesn't seem suicidal to me."

Dr. Crane drew in a deep breath before calmly saying, "Thanks to you and your penchant for sharing it most certainly is. I would have liked to have given her the news of her husbands death myself and in a more controlled and gentle way. Your talent for being blunt has put her life in danger. So to answer your question, yes it's necessary. Make sure it gets done immediately."

"Right away Dr. Crane."

Julie turned and began walking to the elevators. Halfway there she heard Dr. Crane speak again.

"And Julie." He called after her, "Pull a stunt like that again and it will cost you your job."

This time Julie turned and sped towards the elevator in something that fell just short of a sprint. The sooner she could get away from that self-important SOB the better.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.

**2 Days Later**

"You've got to be kidding me". Vanessa looked at the room that she would be calling home for the next week at the very least. The walls were the most depressing shade of beige she'd ever seen in her life. The floors were hard wood, correction, old, rotting hard wood. She had her own sink and what she hoped was a rust covered toilet in one corner of the room and a small cot in the other. A single barred window allowed her a breathtaking view of the asylum's parking lot.

"It may not be much but at least it's clean." The orderly said cheerfully.

"Yeah? That mold growing around the base of the sink, that's clean is it? At least I can synthesize some penicillin should the need arise."

Before the orderly could respond Dr. Crane entered the room.

"Ah Mrs. Martinez. It's so nice to see you again. You're looking well. I brought you some fresh blankets and a change of clothes."

That change of clothes appeared to be a beige long sleeved t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. At least she color coordinated with her room now. Vanessa accepted the bundle from him graciously. During the process her fingers brushed against his. She could see him stiffen instantly at the unexpected contact before relaxing almost as quickly. She didn't know quite what to make of the good doctor. True, he had shown her nothing but kindness since the moment they'd first met but something about him seemed off. It was as if she were watching a man going through the motions of everyday life. His smile and day-to-day interactions with the hospital staff felt forced to her. There was more to this man than meets the eye and something about him that made her uneasy. On the other hand, could she really be a good judge of character in her present state? She could barely keep a handle on herself as of late let alone try to analyze him.

"How long do I have to stay here Dr. Crane?"

"I can't give you an exact time frame I'm afraid. We'll see how your therapy sessions go this week. When I'm confident that you're coping well and aren't a danger to yourself then we can start meeting on an out-patient basis."

"When do my therapy sessions begin?" she asked.

"Well, are you busy now?" A smirk crossed his handsome face. Vanessa was relieved that he had at least made an attempt at humor. Maybe he was human after all?

"I'll clear my schedule this time but only because it's you Dr. Crane."

"Very well, let's talk in my office then shall we?"

Following his lead out of her beige coated room they made their way down the stark white hallways of the asylum and entered his equally white, equally bare office. Vanessa did note that his hardwood floor was new. No mold would be found in this room of that she was certain. Dr. Crane motioned for her to take a seat on the tan couch (more of a loveseat really) as he took his seat behind his desk.

"Tell me Vanessa, how _are_ you doing? We haven't had a chance to really discuss the events that brought you here and how they're affecting you."

"I'm OK."

"Just OK?" he asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"I have my good moments and my bad moments I guess."

"Tell me about your bad moments. What do you feel?"

Vanessa took a deep breath before responding. "Panic…fear….anger."

"Really?" He sat up straight in his chair, watching her intently.

Vanessa couldn't help but notice how he had perked right up at her mention of the word fear. "He's a shrink right? I guess he's supposed to be fascinated by these things." she thought. She shrugged off her lingering concerns and continued.

"One minute I'm fine and then it hits me like a wave." Her voice began to tremble and she felt herself shaking. "I'm back in my bedroom with that bag over my head and I can't breath and I can't see. All I have are a few breaths of air that are left in the bag and I know it won't be long before I start to suffocate. He throws me to the ground and he…he…I know what he's going to do but I can't do anything to stop him. I'm helpless."

Dr. Crane alternated between watching her and scribbling frantically in his notebook.

"Tell me more about this feeling of helplessness."

"I had to make a choice between fighting this man and running out of air faster or just lying there while he violated me so I could focus on my breathing in the hope that help would come in time and I'd survive. I had to give up my power, it was humiliating and those bastards thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen. But in the end none of it mattered. The decision wasn't mine to make."

By this point her nose had started to run and tears were streaming down her face. She grabbed two tissues from his desk. She used one to wipe her nose and the other to blot away her tears. Vanessa wished that Dr. Crane would offer her some comforting words. Instead he removed his glasses and leaned back slightly in his chair all the while never taking his eyes off her.

"What did you mean by that Vanessa? That the decision wasn't yours to make?"

She couldn't answer him right away. She needed a moment to compose herself. This was the first time she'd spoken to anyone about the events of that night. Vanessa had known it wouldn't be easy but this was hell.

"Vanessa? Are you alright?" Dr. Crane asked.

Finally some concern for her! The way he'd been looking at her before she would have thought she was merely filling him in on the latest plotline of some racy soap opera and he sat there, hungry for every detail.

"Yes Dr. Crane- I'm alright."

"Tell me what you meant about the decision not being yours."

"I ran out of air. When I started taking deeper breaths I got nothing. There's no way to describe the feeling. All I can say is that it felt like my lungs were on fire and I knew I was going to die. I felt this overwhelming feeling of desperation and I just started thrashing. It was all I could do. With no air I couldn't even scream." She stopped briefly and shook her head in disgust. "I'll never forget the laughter. I thought I heard a police siren also but it stopped. I can't remember anything after that."

Vanessa felt like she'd been crying non-stop since the day she'd woken up in the hospital. Only imagining how terrible her eyes must look she razed them to meet Dr. Cranes directly.

"What happened to me after I passed out Dr. Crane? Did the police tell you? No one has told me anything. Where did they take Dan? Can I see him? I have these scratches on my face and I don't know how they got there. What happened to the men that did this? Were they caught?" She paused again before asking her last question. "Was I raped?"

Dr. Crane stopped taking notes and placed his pen and paper on his desk. He stood up and walked over to her taking a seat beside her on the couch. As she turned to face him directly he took her hands in his just as he had the first time they'd met at Gotham General.

With a voice so monotone it gave her chills he proceeded to answer her questions one-by-one in horrid detail.

"Your husband was killed instantly from a gunshot wound to the head. He was buried in Gotham Cemetery while you were still in the hospital. You're free to visit his grave site when you're released from Arkham. Police are still searching for the men who attacked you. They've combed the Narrows but have found no trace of them as of yet. Those were indeed police sirens you heard before you lost consciousness. Jim Gordon was the first officer on the scene. When he found you you weren't breathing. He performed CPR and was able to bring you back. At some point you had managed to get your hands free of the ropes and clawed a hole in the bag by your right eye. That's how you obtained those scratches". This time it was his turn to pause. "Vanessa, they did perform a rape kit when they brought you to the hospital. There were signs of forced penetration but no semen was found. Police theorize the men ran when they heard the sirens and weren't able to finish the act."

There it was in a nutshell. Vanessa's mouth hung open as she tried to process all the new information.

"Oh", was all she managed to say. Dr. Crane's briefcase caught her eye for some reason and she made it her focal point.

"Vanessa?' he asked

His voice seemed so far away and everything in her field of vision faded to black with the exception of that briefcase.

"Vanessa." Dr. Crane said her name again, this time taking her face in his hand and physically turning her head so she looked directly into his eyes.

"Stay with me." He said and with those words that darkness faded away.

"What's wrong with me Dr. Crane? I'm coming apart."

"There is nothing wrong with you, nothing at all. What you're experiencing is a completely normal reaction to the traumatic events you've experienced. Have you heard of catatonia?" he asked.

"I know a little bit about it, not that much I suppose."

"Under conditions of overwhelming terror some people become so frightened that they're literally paralyzed with fear. They enter into a trancelike state, albeit not a peaceful one. Have you been experiencing flashbacks related to that night?"

"Over and over again, like a nightmare that won't stop."

"You see Vanessa, that's why I can't let you return home yet. You're current mental state is far too delicate. Going back to your home and those environmental stimuli could trigger another episode."

Vanessa noticed that Dr. Crane's hand still rested on her face. She still held his other hand in her own. Their faces were no more than a foot apart. His thumb brushed along her bottom lip. Tilting his head to the side he closed the gap between them a bit further. What was going on here? He wasn't going to kiss her was he? That wouldn't make any sense but she was hardly pushing him away. Did she want him to kiss her? She didn't know what to feel anymore. A vision of her husbands face flashed in her mind and along with it came a fresh supply of tears.

"Vanessa"

"Yes Dr. Crane."

"Please, call me Jonathan."

"Jonathan" she said.

He no longer looked her in the eyes. Instead he focused on her mouth.

"That's all the time we have for today but I do look forward to our next session on Thursday." He said this cheerfully as he stood up.

Vanessa's eyes popped open and she saw him walk to his desk as if nothing had happened. Then again, nothing had happened really. He pressed a button on his telephone and a nurse entered his office almost immediately.

"Please escort Mrs. Martinez to her room nurse." He ordered. "This was a productive session Vanessa. Now try to get some rest tonight and we'll speak later."

She gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement and followed the nurse back to her room. Room-that was an interesting word for it. It looked more like a prison cell only she lacked even the comfort of a roommate to talk to.

What had just happened? She never felt at ease with Dr. Crane. He didn't seem to want her to. But at the very least she'd finally gotten the rest of the pieces to the puzzle that tragic night had become. Surprisingly, she was not overly concerned that the men who had done this to her had not been apprehended. Vanessa felt confident that karma would take care of them eventually. It always did. What bothered her most was her husband's death and the fact that she had barely had time to think about him until now. Why had it taken her so long to ask about him and where he was buried or was that Dr. Crane's plan all along? Did he intend to spin her mind every which way until she couldn't think straight or dwell on her sorrows? If that was his plan it was ineffective. With this new information she'd just received she was finally able to mourn. Her high school sweetheart, her husband, the love of her life was gone and now she was here all alone. Vanessa gave into her grief at that point. Somehow she began to forge her own path towards acceptance and healing. She did this on her own without the help of Dr. Crane and she knew from that point on that she would be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.

The same nurse returned to her room later that evening. Gotham was at the mercy of a violent thunder storm. Lightning shot across the sky, always followed by an equally impressive boom. Rain pounded against her window so loudly that the nurse practically had to yell to be heard.

"Time for your evening meds, Dr. Crane's orders."

Vanessa took her plastic cup of water and examined her pills-a strange cocktail that Dr. Crane deemed appropriate no doubt.

"What are these for?" Vanessa asked referring to the presence of two new pills in her evening mix.

"Those are to help you sleep. Dr. Crane says they're very mild."

After making sure Vanessa had swallowed all her pills the nurse left her for the night.

"Mild my ass." Vanessa said out loud as she stumbled around her room less than forty-five minutes later. She collapsed onto her bed and was fast asleep before she could even pull the covers over herself.

A particularly loud clap of thunder woke her up sometime later. She felt groggy and nun too happy to be awake but at least the rain had stopped for now. There was no clock in her room therefore she had no way of knowing what time it was, only that it was still dark-a little too dark in fact. She sat up in bed. Something was wrong. The lights in the hallway outside her room and the streetlights below were out as well. Gotham must have lost power sometime during the night. Her only source of light came from the random bolts of lighting that raced across the sky and the faint glow of the emergency lights in the hall which spilled through the observation window and underneath her door.

It took a moment longer for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did she couldn't remember what had registered first, the movement she saw out of the corner of her eye or the sound of the footstep itself.

Her breath caught in her throat and she realized she was not alone in her room.

Finding the courage to speak, she blurted out, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Knowing she'd be unable to mask the fear in her voice she didn't bother trying.

"Scarecrow.", a voice whispered back.

With perfect timing the lighting gave her a first glimpse of this intruder. From what she saw in that brief glance he was a regular man. He was wearing a dark suit although she was unable to discern the exact color. The mask he wore over his face was simple yet terrifying. It was a burlap mask with two eyes holes and a grotesque grin stitched across the mouth with thick, black cord. A hangman's noose hung from around his neck.

"This is it." she thought. "Either I've gone completely insane or this man is real." Neither alternative seemed pleasant. She closed her eyes and prayed he would disappear but he only advanced further.

"No, no, no." she chanted quietly as she began to tremble. Finally daring to steal another glance at him she noticed that the self-titled Scarecrow was extending an arm towards her. Clearly he had something he wanted her to see. Another flash of lightning revealed a black plastic bag hanging in his grasp. By the time the accompanying thunder sounded, Vanessa had already collided with the door. She pulled violently on the handle but the door as always, was locked from the outside. Splinters cut into her fingers and her nails tore as she clawed at the wooden door trying to get out. When the bone of her fingers met the steel of the reinforced door she began to shriek.

"Dr. Crane, help me! Help! Dr. Craaane!" She drew out his last name until her cries for help became nothing but wordless whimpers.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.

Vanessa awoke feeling exhausted and out of sorts. That was starting to become the norm in this place. The fading light of the setting sun told her that another day had passed. Had she really been out that long? Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body and she soon realized that she couldn't move them even if she'd wanted to. A glance downward revealed she was in a straightjacket.

Now this wouldn't do at all! She sat up quickly and the room began to spin. Dr. Crane walked by the observation window of her room. When he noticed that she was awake he entered. He closed the door behind him as she fell back into bed under this new wave of dizziness. Dr. Crane pulled a chair up to the side of her bed and sat down with a solemn look on his face.

"Do you want to talk about what happened last night Vanessa?"

"Scarecrow….Scarecrow."

She had wanted to tell him everything but right now that one word was all she could say.

"I think you're hallucinating again Vanessa or the storm triggered some kind of flashback."

"No, there was someone in my room last night. I did not imagine it. He had a plastic bag with him Jonathan."

Dr. Crane looked frustrated, even a little disappointed.

"Vanessa, think about it. What you're saying doesn't make any sense. Let's say someone did get into your room, how would they have gotten out? The door locks from the outside as you discovered when you clawed your fingers to the bone trying to get out."

What he was saying made perfect sense. She knew that it did, but she could not question her own sanity on this matter, not this time.

"I know what I saw. There was someone here. Maybe it was someone who works here? Someone with a key to my room." She suggested.

Dr. Crane openly rolled his eyes at the notion.

"No staff member would ever attempt to harm you. Our employees undergo a careful screening process before they're hired. We don't just pluck people from the street at random."

At this point she decided there was no point in arguing. Sure, he was listening to her but he wasn't lending a shred of credibility to anything she said.

"I want this damn jacket off." She demanded suddenly. "I can't move in this thing."

"I can't do that Vanessa. I'm worried you would only try to harm yourself again."

"Take it off! What if he comes back? I won't be able to defend myself."

"Is that what you fear the most Vanessa, being defenseless?"

The conversation had taken a very strange turn and the doctor seemed a bit too eager to hear her response.

"I want a lawyer. You can't just keep me tied up like some kind to animal".

Dr. Crane reeled at her last command. He stood up and peered out her observation window. Confident that no one was in close enough proximity to have overheard their conversation he withdrew a syringe from his pocket. When Vanessa saw it she tried to roll away from him but he straddled her to keep her steady.

"I'm afraid you're hysterical. I'm going to have to sedate you."

"Get off of me you freak. The only loony in this hospital is you!" These were her last words as the needle pierced the delicate skin of her neck and Dr. Crane depressed the plunger. A warm chemical began to flow through her bloodstream. As she drifted off yet again Dr. Crane cupped her face in his hands, forcing her half closed eyes to look at him.

"Don't you ever try to make demands of me. As long as you're in here you are mine. Don't forget it."

Although she wouldn't be able to recall exactly what he had said to her when she woke in the morning she would never forget the vision of those icy blue eyes burning into her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.

Dr. Crane had ordered the straightjacket removed two days later. Another three days passed without a visit from the Scarecrow or her doctor. Vanessa was in a state of limbo. She wasn't being treated or released. Finally that afternoon one of the nurses entered her room abruptly.

"Dr. Crane would like a word with you."

Vanessa rose and slowly followed the nurse down the hall to his office. Even though she'd been demanding to meet with him all this time she had to admit she was a bit nervous to hear what he had to say to her.

He looked different today. His ever present glasses were gone. Instead of the usual suit and tie he wore a dark blue sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. The man was even wearing sneakers for heaven's sake.

"Thank you nurse-that will be all." he said as he waved the young woman away like one would a servant. Vanessa added that to the growing list of things she really didn't like about the doctor.

"You're dressed very casual today Jonathan. What's the occasion?"

"It's Saturday."

Was it really? Days of the week had become insignificant to her. In this place each and every day was the same. She walked over to his window and looked out at the city below. His view was not that great either. There wasn't much worth looking at in this city anyway, but it was still better than her view of the parking lot. It was starting to snow again. Strange weather she thought, snowing one minute, thunderstorms the next. It seemed that everything was volatile in Gotham.

"I came in here on my day off because I simply didn't want this to go the weekend." he said.

"And what does the good doctor do on his days off I wonder? Dan and I used to go uptown to North City Park; sometimes we'd go to the Opera House." Her voice began to trail off as she let those memories come back to her. Dan had proposed to her in that park. They'd married less than a year later. She had lost track of the days while she was here but she thought that their third wedding anniversary was less than a month away. In that moment she felt grief tighten around her heart like a fist.

"I wanted to say I was sorry."

Vanessa turned away from the window and looked at him. She couldn't believe what she was hearing-Dr. Crane apologizing? The world must be coming to an end.

He continued, "I'm sorry for the way I acted. I was rude, dismissive and I lost my temper. There is no excuse for my actions. I can only offer you my most heartfelt apologies."

She'd wanted to tell him that he was a pompous, controlling jackass but his apology was so sincere that it took the wind right out of her sails and he wasn't even finished yet.

"I promise to always be a good listener, even when I don't like what I'm hearing. I can hardly expect you to open up to me when I'm not willing to be open myself."

"Do you believe I wasn't seeing things and that there may have been someone in my room that night?" she asked.

"I believe you were medicated and locked in a darkened room with only your thoughts. I believe in the minds power over the body. You should have been monitored more carefully that night especially with the storm as intense as it was and that was my error. But tell me, the men that attacked you in your home, did either of them wear a Scarecrow mask like the one you described?"

"No, just plain black ski masks."

He was about to speak when his beeper went off. He took the small device from his pocket and sighed.

Obviously irritated by the poor timing he looked at Vanessa and said, "I'm sorry again Vanessa, but I'm afraid I do have an appointment to run off to. We'll talk about this more on Monday. In the interim, I'm going to have a guard placed outside your door and from now on there will be two people at the nurses station at all times. Better to be safe then sorry."

"Till Monday then." She replied.

"Friends?" he asked giving her a sheepish grin.

"Friends." she responded with a genuine smile. Who could resist a man who groveled so well?

**Author's note:** Sorry for all these short chapters. Next one will be much longer I promise. Hope you all are enjoying it thus far. Thought I'd take the time to let you know that this is not another one of those Dr. Crane is really a nice guy, just misunderstood kind of stories. He's going to show his true colors very soon.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.

Vanessa ate dinner alone in her room as usual that night. As the minutes passed turning into hours she examined her bandaged fingertips. Dr. Crane was right. Even if someone had managed to get into her room there was no way out without a key. The man in her room or the man she _thought_ had been in her room was not built like any of the orderlies she'd ever seen. It couldn't have been one of the nurses and surely Dr. Crane couldn't be responsible. Vanessa had been told that he was the first one through her door when she had cried out. When she had been in her most desperate hour she had called for him above all others and he had rushed to her aid. That had to mean _something_, didn't it?

It was unusually cold in her room that evening. She laid down in her bed and pulled the blankets up to her neck. Starting to feel a little bit of peace and calm for the first time in weeks, she closed her eyes and vowed to get a good nights sleep.

In her dream a gloved hand brushed across her bare mid-drift in a downward diagonal motion before coming to rest on her upper left thigh. Vanessa shivered in the cold night air as this hand caressed her. It didn't take long to realize this was no dream. She knew what she would see even before she opened her eyes and she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

There he was. That same dark suit and that same horrible mask. With the light from the hallway dimly illuminating her room she could see him better this time as he climbed on top of her. If she had any lingering doubts that Scarecrow was merely a figment of her imagination they were gone now. This was actual, physical contact and it was very real. The similarities between the night of the home invasion and what was happening now could easily be drawn. Being woken from her sleep by a masked man and attacked in her own bed-the only place where she had ever considered herself truly safe. Many of the same emotions were there as well. Fear, or course, but also outrage. "How dare you, how dare you do this to me?", she wondered. What kind of a world was this where people were capable or such atrocities?

There was at least one exception this night anyway. Her hands were not tied behind her back this time. As Scarecrow tore at her sweat pants making his intentions known she swung at him violently. Her first strike found purchase with the side of his head just above his ear. For her next move she grabbed his mask-determined to rip it off and discover this mans identity once and for all. Letting out a small grunt, Scarecrow grabbed her wrist and squeezed harder and harder until the pressure forced her to let go of the mask. His hands pinned her arms above her head and although her underwear and his pants remained untouched he began to grind his hips into hers in simulation of that sexual act.

As he continued his breath grew ragged in her ear. Vanessa turned away from him in disgust. An odd thought crossed her mind. Whoever he was he smelled nice. It was an after shave or cologne that she had smelled recently but could not quite place.

"You're nothing but a pig. Why don't you go jerk off somewhere if all you want to do is wiggle on top of me? I'd like to get back to sleep.", she taunted.

Provoking this man was a risky move but Vanessa was hardly one to go gentle into that good night. Besides, her comments had halted his attack.

"I've only just begun." he whispered. Slowly, one of his hands left her wrists and she heard that all too familiar rustling again before the bag was placed over her face. It wasn't wrapped around her head this time-rather it was held as if he were smothering her with a pillow. Either way, the end result was the same. She could not breathe. Vanessa's hands flung upward haphazardly trying to catch his face. Scarecrow managed to evade her grasping hands each time. She tried clawing at his hands with her gauze covered finger tips but to no avail. Even if her nails had been in tact they wouldn't have gotten through his thick, leather gloves. She was not going to die this way! She bucked underneath him trying to thrown him off of her. He barely budged and only let out a nervous giggle that was filled with a mix of excitement and glee. Vanessa could feel that so called excitement grinding into her hips so she went with the only remaining option. She reached downward grabbing his groin area. She squeezed and twisted as hard as she could. The pain in her fingers was almost unbearable but she would not release her grasp. Scarecrow cried out several times before striking her face through the now loosened bag. The blow filled her vision with stars and she relaxed her vice like grip while pushing her hips upward-throwing him off of her. As she tore the bag away from her face she saw him unlock the door and limp out of the room. She flew after him but by the time she reached the door the lock had reset itself.

"Nurse! Somebody stop that man!"

The halls remained silent and she watched in frustration as Scarecrow made his getaway.

"Damn it!", she screamed.

After one more wordless yell she picked up her chair and threw it across the room. It was over for now and her adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off. Making her way to the toilet, she fell to her knees and threw up. Vanessa had been stronger than she ever thought possible but she did have her limits. She stood up and flushed the toilet. Her legs were shaking and she felt unsteady. Her head hurt like hell. A welt was already forming by her right eye. Some ice would be great right now but nobody seemed to work at this hospital. Where was Dr. Crane when she needed him?

With every second that passed reality set in more and more. Her gaze fell back to her bed. Her torn pants lay at the foot of the bed and the plastic bag rested at the head.

"You sick bastard." she thought as she pulled her pants back on for warmth.

As much as it pained her to touch the bag she folded it and placed it in her pocket. "You may have the key to my room but at least I have proof you were here."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.

Vanessa tried calling for help a few more times but it was obvious that no one would be coming to her aid. What was most upsetting about this night she wondered? The fact that this man could seemingly come and go from her room at will or that she was all alone in terms of defending herself against him?

Sitting on the floor by her bed she had hours to just think. She hadn't had a single visitor since she'd been here. Her parents had died in a car accident last year. She and Dan moved to Gotham several months later when she'd received a job offer from Gotham University-but making friends in a city where people don't even make eye contact was no easy task. Maybe some co-workers or casual friends had asked about her status but without being immediate family they wouldn't get much information. She missed normal human contact desperately. Since she'd been here she had received indifference from the staff and repeated visits from a madman that people thought existed only in her mind. Dr. Crane was the only person she really talked to and even he ran hot and cold. Vanessa pulled her pillow from the bed and hugged it tight. There would be sleeping this night.

Sunday eventually arrived. The nurses entered her room to bring her breakfast and her morning meds. During the night she had gotten cold and had crawled back into bed making sure to lie on her right side. It hurt to have her bruised cheek bone pressed into the hard pillow but she didn't want the nurses to see it. That would only bring question after tedious question and who really cared about her answers anyway? Vanessa had only asked to speak with Dr. Crane and was told he wouldn't be in until Monday. She had the option of speaking to the on-call psychologist if she wished but she refused that consult as well as all food and medications.

Showing as much concern as usual the nurse shrugged her shoulders and left Vanessa in peace. She cat napped periodically over the rest of the day. When night fell she was unable to sleep. The slightest noise brought her to full attention and her fight-or-flight response allowed no rest. Two months ago her life had been normal. Now it was destroyed.

"Why?" she whispered.

Vanessa gasped when the door opened softly that morning but was relieved when she looked over her shoulder and saw that Dr. Crane had entered. In spite of herself she had drifted off to sleep. The sun had risen but it appeared to still be rather early in the morning. Her rest, however long it had been, was not as beneficial as she'd hoped. Her first impulse was to get out of bed and tell him everything that had happened but she found herself unable or perhaps unwilling to speak or move. After lying on one side for a greater portion on the last twenty-four hours, rolling over was difficult but manageable.

Dr. Crane was not looking at her that moment, instead he surveyed the room. He took in the over-turned chair, the crack in her door and the three trays of untouched food. When she saw him her reaction surprised even herself. She began to weep quietly, drawing his attention. He watched her for a moment and she could see the wheels turning in his head. He was putting it all together in his mind, recording and analyzing everything he saw. Leaving the chair where it was he sat next to her on the edge of the bed.

"Vanessa", he said her name in a gentle, soothing voice that she'd been longing to hear. She hadn't heard him speak to her in quite so gentle a tone before.

"Do you want to tell me what happened this weekend? The nurses said you've barely spoken and you've refused all food and medication."

She flinched when his hand ran through her hair but his intent was not to seduce or even comfort. He must have seen a glimpse of her injured face through her tresses and wanted a closer look. Running his fingers over the welt on her face he asked,

"How did this happen? Did you harm yourself intentionally?"

Vanessa curled into the fetal position, still unable to find her voice.

"I'm not feeling very well today Dr. Crane. Maybe we can talk later?"

He studied her once again, this time his gaze fell to her hands and she followed it. She'd been clutching her blanket tight in both hands and her injured fingers had bled through their dressings.

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me. You've had a physical altercation of some kind. That much is obvious. Please tell me what's going on."

Vanessa sat up and climbed out of bed. She turned to face Dr. Crane. She reached into her pocket and handed him the plastic bag. He looked at it in astonishment and returned his attention to her. She was quite a sight indeed with her black eye, bloody fingertips and freshly bruised wrists. He looked downward to her torn pants.

This time he stood up quickly and retrieved the chair. Bringing it over to her side he asked her to sit down and she complied. He knelt in front of her and his hands ran up her right thigh.

Vanessa almost jumped out of her chair.

"What are you doing?" she asked

Dr. Crane remained calm. With an even tone he said,

"Vanessa, please. I'm the last person in the world that would hurt you but I need to assess these injuries if I'm to document everything properly."

She allowed him to continue and for the first time she dared to look as well. She'd been sore but had not wanted to see the damage she knew was there. What she saw now was even worse than she had imagined. Both of her thighs were discolored by contusions of various shapes and sizes. The right one even had what appeared to be a hand print outlined in bruises.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about this?" he asked.

She didn't respond.

"Were you able to see his face?" The inflection of his voice demanded she answer.

"No, he wore the same mask. I told you I wasn't making this up. There was someone in my room last week and he was here again Saturday night."

"Vanessa, if he raped you, you have to tell me. You'll need to be examined. We still might be able to salvage some DNA evidence."

"He didn't rape me Dr. Crane."

"What _did_ he do to you Vanessa? Tell me how you sustained these injuries."

So she told him everything-how he pinned her arms down, forced himself on her, put the bag over her face and hit her. She told him about the fear she felt that Scarecrow would finish what her first attackers had not.

"He wasn't going to rape me or kill me. This wasn't about sex it was about power- he seems to get excited by fear."

"And were you frightened?" he asked.

"Waking up with a strange man on top of me and then a bag on my head? How could I not be?" Vanessa said, sounding surprised that Dr. Crane had even asked the question.

"But you were able to control your fear-to focus it. You're a very strong woman Vanessa. Most people would have broken under such repeated psychological trauma."

She smiled at his praise but it was stolen away as quickly as it had appeared. Vanessa found herself breaking down in tears again. What was wrong with her today?

"There's something else you need to tell me." Dr. Crane stated more than asked.

She rose from the chair and turned away from him. Vanessa didn't think she'd be able to say what was on her mind, keep her composure and look him in the eye at the same time. When she knew that he had risen and was standing just a few feet behind her she said,

"My family is gone. I have no one. I have nothing-nothing to go back to when I get out of here. I'm tired of all this pain. I just can't take anymore."

Feeling as if she were about to collapse, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Surprisingly he didn't stiffen at the sudden physical contact. He held her tightly in his arms. She melted into him enjoying the way he felt and the way he smelled. Strange emotions she thought were long gone began to well inside of her.

"I need you. Please stay with me Jonathan. You're all I've got."

He took a deep breath and said softly,

"You're safe Vanessa. I won't let anyone hurt you again. Even if it means I have to camp outside your door myself."

Overcome with emotion she did something she would come to regret deeply over the coming days. She kissed him. It was the briefest of kisses, barely a peck on the lips. Dr, Crane looked at her with a bewildered expression on his face. He stood frozen in place, unsure of what he wanted to do, but he was not pushing her away either. Taking it as a sign to continue she kissed him again-deeper this time. His full lips were soft but he did not reciprocate her kiss no matter how badly she wanted him to. Her kisses moved to his neck and his breathe quickened for an instant before he pushed her gently but firmly away from him.

"Vanessa, please stop. This isn't appropriate."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Vanessa meant what she had said. She was shocked at her own behavior. She'd been so desperate for tender and-more importantly-consensual physical contact that she had thrown herself at her own doctor!

"I understand where your feelings are coming from. You're trying to regain some level of normalcy in your life by forming an intimate relationship but it would be a breach of ethics from me to be anything but your doctor. I can't replace what you've lost. I can't replace your husband."

"I know." Her eyes were glued to the floor. Truth-be-told she was too embarrassed to look at him after what she'd done.

"Let's meet in my office this afternoon. Getting out of this room for a while will do you some good I think. Until then-try to get some rest and please eat something."

He lifted her chin so he could see her eyes.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll see you later then."

When he left she picked at the food that hadn't already become stale from a days worth of exposure to the air. After finishing that task she crawled into bed and quickly fell asleep. Vanessa hadn't seen the grin that spread across Dr. Crane's face when he had left her room. She didn't know that she'd fallen into every trap he had set for her and that she was playing right into his hands.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.**

When she walked into Dr. Crane's office a few hours later she could tell that things had changed.

"How are you Vanessa? Feeling better I hope".

He acknowledged her presence but didn't bother to take his eyes off the stack of papers on his desk. My how a few hours could change everything? He was cold toward her again-preoccupied with something.

Vanessa decided to answer his question cheerfully in an attempt to draw him out of his shell.

"I'm doing well. I was able to eat and get some rest just like you suggested."

Dr. Crane closed the file he'd been reading and removed his glasses.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it." he said.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of him in a defensive manner. She could feel the tension in the air. It was making her more than a little nervous. Why did she suddenly feel uncomfortable being alone with him?

"Have a seat Vanessa and make yourself comfortable. You're my only patient this afternoon. We have a great deal to discuss."

"Why do I get all the special attention Dr. Crane?"

"We need to talk about your transfer and continuing treatment plan."

Now this was unexpected. After their encounter this morning these were the last words she had expected to hear.

"You mean I'm being released?" she asked, barely able to contain her joy.

"No Vanessa, you're not. Frankly you're condition has done nothing but deteriorate since you arrived here. I'm very concerned about you."

She'd sensed that he was about to drop a bomb on her from the moment she had entered the room-but nothing like this. In the wake of its explosion all she could muster was,

"Huh?"

"You've been rude and abusive to me and my staff. You're suffering paranoid delusions and it's become increasingly clear to me over the past few weeks that you can no longer distinguish between dreams and reality."

"What are you talking about? Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?"

Her temper soared. How dare he play games with her?

In a grim tone he continued, "I'm having you committed to my care until such time as I believe you are no longer a danger to yourself or others."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing. You said I was making progress, that my feelings were normal. You said I could qualify for out patient care soon."

"I said no such thing." Dr. Crane stated.

"But I need to get out of here. I can't stay in this place. I need to see my husband's grave." Vanessa's voice caught in her throat. "Dr. Crane…..please." she pleaded.

"I'm sorry. Not after this latest episode."

"What episode? I was attacked in my room. I gave you proof of that this morning. There's a man out there that can come and go from my room at will and you were supposed to put a guard at my door. Why don't you try doing _your_ job doctor?"

With that same tone of smug detachment he said, "You'll be monitored on a twenty-four hour basis via security camera as soon as you're relocated to a more secure wing at Arkham I can assure you. In regards to this proof you speak of, I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"The plastic bag I gave you. That isn't proof enough?" she asked.

Dr. Crane looked at her and shook his head.

"I handed it to you. I saw you take it!" Vanessa was practically yelling at this point.

"Vanessa, it never happened." He said harshly.

She threw her hands in the air and stood up. She walked over to his book case feeling utterly dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events. For the first time since she'd begun her sessions with him she took the time to study the titles in his library. Every single book on the shelf concerned phobias and the minds response to traumatic events and frightening stimuli.

In that moment everything came together in her mind. The man who had attacked her had not been one of the hulking orderlies who roamed the halls. No, he'd been slight of build- so slim as to be fragile, much like Dr. Crane. She felt a sinking feeling as she realized that the assailant in her room Saturday night was the same man she'd kissed that morning. Both had a keen interest in fear and as luck would have it, both had the key to her room.

Feeling anger she had never known she gathered her emotions and did her best to compose herself.

"How's the groin Jon? I hope I didn't squeeze too hard but you were getting a little rough." she said as she turned towards him.

"What are you implying? That I was the one who committed this alleged assault?" he asked.

"I'm not implying anything-I'm openly accusing you."

"Ms. Martinez, this is not Halloween and I hardly have the time to parade around Arkham in a costume."

"That's Mrs." Vanessa said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Mrs. Martinez, you said Ms." She corrected

"Your husband it dead Vanessa. So it would seem that you're a miss again after all."

He spat the words at her, swallowing a lump in his throat when he finished. Rage was churning within him. Vanessa sensed he was barely able to contain it. Well, he wasn't the only one who felt that way. Fed up with all the nonsense, she decided to continue asserting herself.

"This so-called meeting is over. I want to speak to the resident psychologist and make sure he knows what kind of monster you are. You belong in a cell not behind a desk."

It felt good to finally speak her mind. Reveling in this new feeling of power she went a step further.

"Scarecrow, ha! What an appropriate nickname. Look at yourself. You're nothing but skin and bones. No wonder you jumped my in my sleep. I'd kick your ass it you didn't get the drop on me."

That did it. Dr. Crane rose from his chair and rushed at her. Instinctively she ran from him but in the close confines of his office he was on her in seconds. Luckily, Vanessa was able to get her hands up just before he slammed her face first into the wall. She hit with such force that a painting was jarred loose and fell to the floor. Broken glass scattered by their feet. With one hand wrapped around her waist and the other at her throat he held her tight with no way to escape. For such a frail appearance he was surprisingly strong.

"What if I am the Scarecrow? What can you do about it Vanessa? Absolutely nothing, that's what. Tell me-do you still think you could kick my ass?"

"Dr. Crane, let me go."

"You'll go when I say you can go. You keep forgetting that when you're here you're mine," he paused dramatically, "to do with as I please."

A knock came at the door and Dr. Crane released her.

"Come in." he said.

He turned to Vanessa, "and you, keep your mouth shut."

A nurse entered his office timidly and scanned the room. She noticed the broken picture frame and glass immediately.

"Is everything OK doctor?" she asked.

"Everything is fine. The picture fell from the wall. It gave both of us a good scare. Didn't it Vanessa?"

Vanessa chose not to respond. The nurse was the first familiar face she'd seen in quite a while. It was Julie-the same woman who had been with her when she woke up in the hospital all those weeks ago. They stared at each other for a moment before Dr. Crane spoke.

"You can take her back to her room now. We're quite finished."

Julie nodded and Vanessa followed her out of the room with no further words or eye contact exchanged between her and Dr. Crane.

"I didn't know you worked here." Vanessa said as they walked down the hall.

"I moonlight one or two nights a week to make ends meet but I usually work the night shift."

"The nightshift huh? I could use you on my floor." Vanessa spoke with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Julie opened the door to Vanessa's room but stopped her from going in.

"Listen, don't provoke Dr. Crane. I know what's going on here and I'm going to do all I can for you. I know someone who might be able to help."

Julie looked over her shoulder nervously as Dr. Crane exited his office and watched the two of them in the hallway. He motioned Julie over to him.

"Glad to see you're doing better. Maybe I'll see you around one of these nights" Julie said nonchalantly before closing the door and locking it behind her.

Vanessa sat on her bed. "What a day." she sighed.

The Scarecrow had been unmasked and she had been betrayed by the only person she thought she could trust. Although she felt like a sitting duck waiting for him to make his next move, Julie had given her a shred of hope, however small it might be.

Still, she was haunted. What did Dr. Crane want from her and how long was she going to have to wait to find out?


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.**

The footsteps she heard coming down the hall that evening didn't surprise her really, but her breath caught in her throat none the less. Vanessa knew full well that it was Dr. Crane coming to pay her another one of his late night visits.

This would be their last encounter though. She felt certain of that. Dr. Crane was a lot of things but stupid was not one of them. He had to know by now that Julie was a loose canon. Why else had he been so eager to break up their seemingly harmless conversation in the hallway? He'd have to put Vanessa away one way or the other rather quickly at that. She only hoped Julie wouldn't suffer the same fate.

Try as she might her breath would only come in short gasps. She lay in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin as she stared at the ceiling. The footsteps came to a stop outside her door and there was a deafening silence in that brief moment. Vanessa closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. Should she pretend to be asleep? Would he leave her be? Doubtful she thought.

"This is it," she told herself. As the door opened she sat up in bed. Dr. Crane entered the room making sure he locked both of them in. Too bad he was a madman since he did look quite striking in the light of the full moon. He wore no mask tonight and did not carry his trademark briefcase with him. For all intents and purposes he appeared to be unarmed.

"No mask this time doctor? What's on the agenda this evening? Maybe force me to dress in a Hefty bag and dance in the moonlight?"

She almost laughed at the mental picture that conjured up. A gleam of satisfaction washed over her. At least she knew that no matter how this night ended she had managed to remain a wise ass right till the end.

Dr. Crane smiled at her. Not his usual smirk but a genuine smile this time.

"You think you've got it all figured out don't you?" he asked.

"Well I did until you gave me that I'm-crazy-as-hell smile. Is there something else you think I should be aware of?"

By now she had risen from bed and stood to face him directly. She clapped her hands in front of her out of nervousness. There was no denying she was frightened. She only prayed he couldn't see right through her tough façade.

"Vanessa, I've been very patient with you. I've done nothing but try to help you since you got here."

"Help me? That's outrageous. Some would consider what happened in this room last week sexual assault and attempted murder."

"No, it was part of your therapy. My techniques are unconventional. I'll give you that, but I forced you to face you fears and look at you now. You've come out all the stronger for it and this is the thanks I get."

"What do you want me to do, kiss your feet?" she asked.

"Gratitude, I want you to show me a little gratitude."

He was closing the distance between the two of them quickly. Vanessa backed away only to find her back hit the corner of the wall all too soon.

"I'm willing to give you a second chance but you have to help me this time."

"Help you with what Dr. Crane?"

"I need your assistance with my new experiment. I'm coming up on a very important deadline and I need a test subject. We've worked well together in the past. Don't you agree?"

"No, not really. What kind of experiment are you talking about?"

"It's a new drug I'm developing. It allows patients to face their fears without so much, shall we say, physical effort on my part." He couldn't help but smile at her knowingly after that statement.

"What's in it for me if I cooperate?" Vanessa asked.

"Stick with the trial for one month and at the end I'll release you with a clean bill of health. You'll have to come back and meet with me for an hour once a week but only as a formality. We wouldn't want to draw suspicion would we?"

"You're serious? You'd actually let me go? Sorry doc but this sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me. How am I supposed to believe you'll keep your word?"

He walked closer to her and offered her his hand as he had all those times before.

"I can only offer you my word-nothing more. Let's shake on it."

Vanessa studied him as he stood little more than two feet away from her. The light of the moon reflected off his glasses giving his eyes an other-worldly glow.

Feeling as if she were making a deal with the devil she tentatively raised her hand. Deciding she valued a chance at freedom above all else and really had nothing to lose anyway she placed her hand in his. He tightened his grip quickly-like a python would its prey. Instead of shaking her hand he drove her against the wall. She let out a wordless grunt as the wind was knocked out of her.

Dr. Crane's tone was mocking as he asked her, "Don't you ever get tired of being played like a fiddle?"

"I wish I could say I was surprised." She laughed as she shook her head.

Her tone quickly grew serious, "Why do you do these things Jonathan? You're supposed to be my doctor. You were supposed to help me."

If there was a shred of decency left in him Vanessa hoped she could appeal to it.

"What can I say? You're my favorite patient and you're fun to play with."

With that he kissed her. She was able to break away from him almost immediately and tried to cry out for help. This time he grabbed the back of her head roughly, wrapping his fist in her hair and pulling her head back before covering her mouth with his own once more. The kiss was hungry, demanding and it would not be denied. Vanessa couldn't push him away this time so she stopped trying. After what seemed like an eternity he stopped. Dr. Crane watched her with curiosity trying to read her emotions. Vanessa gave him only a blank stare.

"Why the cold shoulder Vanessa? The other day I was the one pushing _you_ away."

"Mine was a desperate act during a moment of weakness-nothing but a mistake. You're taking advantage." she responded.

"I think it was a little more than that. Be honest. Was that the first time you'd ever thought about being with me? Was it the last?"

"You can't do this. Do you think that people won't find out about what you're doing to your patients? That you experiment on them?" she asked him sincerely.

"I'm the Director of the asylum. People here see only what I tell them to. They turn a blind eye and deaf ear to everything else. An over zealous employee may pop up from time-to-time but they're always persuaded to drop the subject….one way or another."

That had to be a reference to Julie. His power of perception was as keen as ever. His mouth curled into that all too familiar grin when he saw the defeated look on her face.

"I'll fight you every step of the way," she told him. Not breaking eye contact for a second.

"I don't think you will. You're tired aren't you? Do you _really_ want to fight with me?"

He slid the collar of her oversized T-shirt off of her shoulder with his free hand and started a trail of kisses up her collar bone.

"We're done fighting for now I think. It's time to make up", he whispered to her.

He'd worked his way up to the hollow of her neck by this point. His soft voice continued to speak to her in a seductive tone in between his caresses.

"What would have happened if I hadn't stopped you that morning I wonder? How far would it have gone?"

His kisses advanced up her throat, finally reaching that all too tender junction between her neck and ear. He lingered there as he unraveled his hand from her hair and un-tucked her shirt from her sweatpants. His hands rested on the bare skin of her waist.

"Did you think about what it would have been like?"

He nibbled on her ear lobe,

"to feel my hands on your body."

His hands ran along the smooth skin of her back,

"to feel me inside of you"

He pulled her body into his,

"Jonathan" she gasped.

Vanessa reached out and gripped his waist. While he continued his assault on her neck she unbuttoned his sport coat and un-tucked his shirt. Feeling along the edge of his belt she identified a canister of unknown purpose; she guessed mace or pepper spray and what might be a key ring.

"I did think about you." she said as her voice began to tremble.

He stopped what he was doing and looked into her eyes.

"Shhh, it's okay." he said, his mouth making contact with hers again.

"There's something I've wanted to give you."

"What's that?" he asked as he fumbled with the tie to her sweatpants.

Vanessa drove her fist into his lower jaw with all her strength. It was a perfect upper cut if she did say so herself and Dr. Crane must have agreed because he fell flat on his back in appreciation. As he lay sprawled on the floor Vanessa saw the moon light reflecting off his key ring. She'd guessed right after all.

Holding the keys in her hand she didn't hesitate as she ran toward the door. Keys one through three did not work but she heard the lock release when she turned the fourth key. The door opened and she made her first step towards freedom.

Vanessa had just entered the hall when Dr. Crane grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. Bringing her arms up she was prepared to go another round with him. That's when the spray hit her. At first she thought he'd maced her but there was no pain or watering of her eyes as she would have expected.

She coughed a bit from the gas before losing her balance and falling to the floor. Something was wrong. Her heart was racing. A feeling of anxiety grew quickly within her then blossomed to full blown panic. She could swear that the walls were moving. Dr. Crane stood over her but he too seemed to be undulating just like the rest of her surroundings. The flesh on his face began to slowly melt away until nothing but sinew and bone remained.

"Get away from me!" Vanessa screamed.

"Tell me what you see?"

It had to be Dr. Crane speaking. There was no one else around but his voice too had changed. It was deeper than normal, raspy. The kind of voice one only hears in their worst nightmares.

Vanessa clamped her hands over her ears and screamed. This time she didn't stop. She kept screaming until Dr. Crane disappeared and the rest of her world faded to black.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.**

It had taken him four days to bring Vanessa back to the land of the living once he had committed to doing so. After what she had done to him he'd been tempted to watch her die. She had teased him, embarrassed him and nearly broken his jaw. He'd been so angry with her he could hardly see straight.

Jonathan had meant it when he told her she owed him some gratitude. She had no idea how much careful planning and hard work had gone into each and every one of his sessions with her. After weeks of prep time he had deemed her worthy to receive the first dose of his newly perfected fear toxin. He hadn't tested it on a female patient yet. Her gender coupled with the fact that she was the sanest person he could freely initiate into his trials made her a prime specimen. It had been a miracle that she had come to him when she did. When he heard about her attack on the news and her resulting catatonic state he had been eager to offer his full time services. Being such a highly respected psychiatrist he'd been regarded as a saint and hero for volunteering his time free of charge. Once her mind knew she was safe she would awaken and they could begin. He knew that wouldn't take long. In appreciation of her service to science he had planned to make sure she was sparred from the riots that would no doubt ensue after the toxin was released into the city. She would never be who she once was but she would be alive. Jonathan thought he deserved a thank you for that.

Things went well at first, just as he had anticipated they would. He watched with unfettered glee as she writhed on the floor beneath him. Her screams were like music to his ears because they were directed at him. She feared _him_. He'd so desperately wanted to know what she was seeing but she was not rational enough to understand or respond to his questions.

Then it all went wrong. Her screams stopped abruptly. She exhaled in a distressing manner, making a peculiar moan as the air passed through her throat. Her whole body stiffened. It didn't take a doctor to recognize the beginnings of a Grand Mal seizure. His eyes widened as she entered the tonic phase. Her skin and lips turned blue. Every muscle in her body contracted forcefully and she vomited. Thirty seconds later the convulsions began.

The dose he had given her must have been too strong-his adjustments for her smaller frame and body weight incorrect. Feeling conflicted he watched her spasm on the floor. Letting her die might be the easier thing to do. Even if she did recover from this attack who knows what kind of state her mind would be in. He could hardly test the long term effects his toxin had on her if the first dose had driven her stark, raving mad. She could have brain damage and be totally useless to him. She would be just another vegetable taking up space in his asylum like most of the other rejects that came here. On the other hand, Vanessa had proven herself an amazingly resilient woman in the past. If he took actions to help her now there was a chance she could come out of this relatively unscathed. Since seizures and memory loss went hand-in-hand their last meeting, including his use of the toxin, might be erased from her mind. He found that an interesting prospect indeed.

Jonathan ran down the hall past the nurse's station and unlocked the door to the pharmacy. Grabbing two bottles and syringes he returned to where she was still in the throws of her seizure. He decided he had invested too much time and was too close to his deadline to let her go now and he needed to act quickly. Vanessa had been convulsing for over two minutes by this point. Her body was expending huge amounts of energy. Her brain was becoming increasingly starved for oxygen. Using his foot he managed to pin down her right arm long enough to administer a large dose of Diazepam. When the seizure stopped moments later he followed up with a dose of Phenobarbital to prevent further episodes. Two seizures back-to-back could very well kill her.

The days had passed slowly between that night and this one. Jonathan sat by her bed now and watched her resting peacefully. He willed her to wake up. Tests had been inconclusive in determining whether or not there had been any brain damage. He would have to talk to her and look into her eyes before he could know for sure. He straightened in his chair as she moaned softly and began to stir. Slowly her eyes opened and she took in her surroundings. He wanted to say something to her but decided to wait and see if she would speak first. Finally, her eyes settled on him.

"Dr. Crane…Jonathan?" she queried.

Vanessa's first words came in a soft whisper, if he had not been sitting so close to her he wouldn't have heard them. That she was able to recognize him so quickly and remember his name was a good sign. He decided to test the waters a bit more.

"How do you feel Vanessa?"

He asked the question slowly, allowing her time to process each word.

"Tired, I feel s-sick." she stuttered and suddenly looked as if she might faint.

"It's okay. You had a seizure but you're stable now. You need to rest."

She slowly reached out and took his hand. She pulled it to her body.

"Stay Jonathan. I'm scared."

Her words were slurred somewhat but that did not alarm him. It was not uncommon for someone recovering from a seizure to be lethargic and hard to engage in conversation. Actually, he was quite pleased with how she was doing.

"I'll stay with you" he told her.

"I'm sorry for what…what I did."

"What do you mean?" he asked, not sure what she could be referring to.

"Morning, shouldn't have done that…to you."

Her broken sentence had him stumped but it soon dawned on him that she must be talking about the incident that occurred in her room nearly a week ago now. Ah yes, when she had made an advance on _him_.

Any type of seizure had the ability to affect a person's memory but this was too good to be true. Now he knew the timeline her brain was following. In her mind she must have lost consciousness shortly after that incident. Vanessa seemed to have no recollection of their past two rather heated encounters. He was still her friend, maybe even her hero.

"It's in the past. Don't think on it. Just sleep now." he said gently.

Vanessa smiled at him warmly before her eyes closed and she drifted back to sleep. Jonathan continued to sit with her, wrapped up in his own thoughts. He would have to treat her with kid gloves at least for a little while. He couldn't give her another dose of toxin right away-not until she regained some of her strength. It was an inconvenient delay but finding another test subject like her was unlikely and he did not have time to start from scratch.

Jonathan was both fascinated and disappointed in the results the toxin had on her. She was not a typical patient and her reaction had not been typical either. For one thing the toxin seemed to be completely gone from her system. There were no lasting effects that he had been able to see. The other inmates he tested on had recovered from their full blown bouts of panic but the uneasiness and anxiety attacks had always remained. Vanessa seemed more calm and serene than she had ever been.

When he determined she had settled into a deep slumber he gently let go of her hand and left the room. He stopped to look at his watch as he made his way down the hall to his office. It was almost ten p.m. It seemed he didn't even have time to sleep these days such was his workload. All of his time was spent developing and testing the toxin. If all went according to plan he would begin distributing it into the city's water supply within the next two weeks.

He removed his glasses and rubbed the back of his neck. He was exhausted and could feel a tension headache coming on. Fatigue had been to blame for what happened in her room that night. Jonathan's intent had been to dose her with the toxin almost immediately then spend the bulk of his time studying her reaction to it. He had not meant for things to get so physical. Maybe passionate was the more appropriate word? When he had pinned her to the wall and felt her body so close to his he'd desired her and had been elated when he thought she felt the same. His lose of control frightened him. A man of his intellect did not give in to his most base animal instincts and that's just what it had been, lust. He didn't entertain any notion that he loved her or even felt the slightest amount of affection for her. Emotionally she was nothing to him but an object of interest and a means to an end. Physically was a different animal entirely. He didn't have many opportunities with women and had to admit he found her attractive; but it was not worth jeopardizing the whole operation for a roll in the hay. Had he not recovered from her upper cut so quickly she may have ruined everything. The kind of men he was working for would not hesitate to kill them both if they found out what had happened.

Jonathan knew there was something wrong the moment he stepped into his office. He didn't need to turn on the light to see the papers strewn across the floor. Books were torn from the shelves and it appeared every drawer in his desk had been pried open with a crowbar. He turned on the light to further survey the destruction and approached the piece of ransacked furniture. Oddly enough most of his files seemed to be present and accounted for. He thumbed through his patient records until he reached the letter M. Sure enough, Vanessa's file was gone. That part was fine. There was nothing at all incriminating in that file. It contained only typical patient information-height, weight-etc. and notes detailing their therapy sessions. He somehow always left out the details of their more impassioned meetings; funny how that worked. But her file was not the only thing missing.

The bottom drawer of his desk had been ripped out and emptied. Now this was worrisome. In that drawer was the outline of Vanessa's actual treatment plan including when and how much toxin he planned to give her and what he speculated her reaction would be. Jonathan sat down and slammed his fist on the ruined desk. The sound of a woman gasping startled him. He turned towards the door of his office and saw a flash of red hair as a woman ran into the hallway.

He was out of his chair in an instant and gave chase. A stray paper weight sent him crashing to the floor. He got up quickly, cursing the object and ran into the hall. He saw her at the opposite end of the corridor, struggling to get the door to the stair well open. She'd been in the office with him the whole time hadn't she? She must have been caught in the act and hidden behind the door when he'd entered. Jonathan knew who it was even if he had not seen her face yet. No one else in the asylum had red hair quite like hers.

"Julie, don't do anything you'll regret. Put the files down." he ordered.

He ran down the hall, closing in on her rapidly. In desperation she threw herself against the door and it gave way. She bid a hasty retreat into the stairwell and he quickened his pace. He had to catch her before she got to the parking lot. The sound of her heavy breathing echoed up the stairs to him as he descended the steps two at a time. When she looked over her shoulder and saw how close he was she cried out in alarm.

"Last chance Julie. Give me the files and we can pretend this never happened."

The words were empty and he knew she wouldn't fall for it but it never hurts to try does it? Julie had signed her own death warrant when she broke into his office. Even if she gave everything back right now he couldn't let her live.

He lost sight of her for a moment as she exited the stairs. It was a straight shot now from the front of the building to her car and he felt confident he'd take her down before she made it. Jonathan didn't see the car that almost ran him over when he took his first step into the parking lot. The driver slammed on his brakes but still hit him with enough force to send him onto the hood of the car then back to the pavement with a resounding thud. He got up and limped after her ignoring the pain in his hip but by now the damage was already done. These precious lost seconds allowed Julie to get to her vehicle. She was already backing out of her space as the driver who had hit him opened his door.

"Jesus man, are you alright? I didn't see you." he said apologetically.

Jonathan ignored this fools concern for his well being as he hobbled towards the main gate. Julie was stopped at the security checkpoint-about to go through.

"Stop that car. Don't let it through!" he yelled to the guard.

Tire spikes rose from the ground as the cars engine revved. She drove through the check point shredding her tires in the process. That didn't stop her however. It barely slowed her down. Julie fled Arkham on nothing but her rims.

"I'm sorry doctor. There was nothing else I could do." the guard said.

"Forget it happened. She's a disgruntled former employee nothing more. I'll deal with it directly." Jonathan assured him.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. Whether he liked it or not, he was in league with the most ruthless and powerful people in Gotham's underworld. One call to Carmine Falcone and Julie was done for. Jonathan cringed in advance at the sheer number of favors he would have to provide the mobster for services rendered but whatever the price it would be well worth it. Falcone would put a bounty on her head so astronomical every thug in the city would be on the look out for her. Every cop for that matter too. She wouldn't get far, especially on four flat tires.

After finishing his call, Jonathan shook his head as he walked back into the building. "Too many loose ends," he said, "too many loose ends."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.**

**I also wanted to thank everyone for your wonderful and supportive reviews. They are very much appreciated.**

A non-epileptic Grand Mal seizure was the official diagnoses. Vanessa had been monitored by EEG since she'd been brought to this new floor at Arkham. Apparently the seizure had not originated in her central nervous system meaning it had been in response to some other stimuli. What the stimuli had been was a mystery to her and her doctors. They screened her blood for traces of drugs, alcohol and poisons but found nothing. All she knew was that her whole body ached from the spasms and she had a headache that would not quit. On the upside she liked this room much better. It was clean, the walls were bright and she had been able to take her first real shower since she'd become a patient here. Granted it was a small standup shower with water that barely got above room temperature but it was better than the bird baths she had been taking via the sink in her other room. Vanessa was disappointed when she found out she wouldn't be staying here and was due to return to her dungeon the next morning. The M.D. had given his okay so back she would go. She thought it odd that she had not seen Dr. Crane at all this week. When she asked one of the nurses about it she was told that he had been spending most of his days in court. There had been a large influx of patients into the asylum in the last week-two patients to be exact. It didn't seem like a large number to Vanessa but the nurse seemed to think it was abnormal.

When she stepped into her old room she experienced a sense of dread so overwhelming that she sunk to the floor. Vanessa was at a loss to explain why she felt this way. She reassured herself that this was all in her head and accepted the sedative the nurse offered. After all she'd been through this past week sleep was becoming increasingly important to her.

Vanessa woke up in a cold sweat that evening. She felt awful and her dreams had been plagued with strange images that confused and frightened her. She had seen Scarecrow with his plastic bag in tow coming for her, a menacing white fog drifting through the air and by far the most disturbing; Dr. Crane standing above her bed watching her sleep. He held something in his hand but Vanessa was unable to discern what it was. He kept looking back and forth between her and the door before he slowly backed out of the room. Why she found that so unsettling was unclear. She was thankful that the sun was still shining and her room still well lit. She didn't know how she would have reacted had she woken in a dark room. A nurse entered just then with a tray of food. Vanessa glanced at the name tag-Audrey it read. Audrey was a plump elderly woman with white hair and kind eyes. Vanessa couldn't recall having seen her before.

"What time is it?" Vanessa asked.

"It's 5:00, time to rise-and-shine sweetheart."

"Wow, you are way too happy to be working in this place." Vanessa thought.

"Where's Jonathan, I mean Dr. Crane?" she asked.

His continued absence baffled her. After having this unexplained seizure she thought she would be seeing him more than ever. Instead he had dropped off the face of the earth.

"He's been in court all afternoon I'm afraid but that's not unusual these days. I'm a little surprised at the type of a patient he's been going to bat for lately but that's why he's the shrink and I'm the nurse I guess. I'm sure he'll be in later this evening when his new desk arrives. He's still trying to put his office back in order and that fiasco in the parking lot" she sighed then continued, "That poor man is going to limp for a week. People just don't watch where they're driving these days."

Vanessa felt that Audrey could have gone on for hours if she hadn't interrupted.

"What are you talking about?"

Audrey was all too happy to fill her in on the all the gossip of the past week. Julie had evidently been some kind of rogue nurse who had gone off her rocker (as Audrey put it) and vandalized Dr. Crane's office. He had caught her in the act and chased her into the parking lot only to be hit by a car. He hadn't broken any bones but he probably felt as stiff as Vanessa did after her seizure. To add insult to injury, Julie had made it past security and was yet to be found.

"That's crazy." Vanessa said.

"But I thought he already told you about it dear. He left your room so late last night I would have thought the two of you had talked for hours."

Vanessa was about to tell her she must be mistaken when Audrey said,

"Come on now, eat your dinner. There's nothing worse than cold oatmeal. I'll be back for the tray in an hour."

Audrey left and Vanessa turned her attention to the tray. What kind of place serves oatmeal for dinner?

Without warning that feeling of dread returned. She tried to ignore it. There was no reason for it she kept telling herself. So why were her hands shaking? She decided to try some oatmeal and see how it went down. When she touched the tray a voice echoed in her mind. Vanessa recognized the voice as Julie's and a memory from the not too distant past came back to her.

"Don't provoke Dr. Crane. I'll do all I can for you" she had warned.

All of those lost memories were popping back into her mind almost as fast as she could process them. Dr. Crane had slammed her face first into the wall of his office while verbally berating her. He'd come into her room at night and ravished her. He'd been the one to poison her as well. Vanessa could remember that canister clearly now and the toxin it contained. She felt as if her legs couldn't support her anymore so she quickly sat down on her bed. She clamped her hand over her mouth trying to suppress an urge to scream.

"What am I going to do?" she thought.

When the door opened an hour later she assumed it was Audrey returning for the tray. Dr. Crane entered the room instead. He must have known something was wrong because he didn't say a word to her. They made eye contact but Vanessa quickly looked away. She was unable to control her trembling.

"So I guess your memory has returned. Good, we can pick up where we left off then." he finally said.

Vanessa ran to her food tray and clutched the only weapon available to her. It just happened to be the plastic spork that came with every horrendous meal they served at the asylum.

Dr. Crane couldn't help but laugh,

"And what may I ask do you intend to do with that my dear?"

"Did you think I would never remember the things you did to me? What did you poison me with? Why did you do it?"

He looked bored as he responded,

"You're always so full of questions Vanessa. All you need to know right now is that you are part of a much bigger picture. One your feeble little mind couldn't possibly understand."

Driven by anger she ran at him, not sure of what she intended to do when she got there. Calmly he held his right arm up as if signaling her to stop. Vanessa saw some kind of apparatus on his wrist. The sight of it stopped her dead in her tracks. He'd made changes to the delivery system since they last met but she knew its purpose and remembered just how debilitating the fear toxin was.

"You remember this don't you?" he asked when he saw the expression on her face, "then you must also remember the details of the scheme that you and your little friend cooked up?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." she said.

"Don't play dumb with me. It belittles us both. Where is Julie?"

His questions were relentless as his tone grew more menacing.

"How long have the two of you been planning this?" he probed.

"I haven't been planning anything Dr. Crane."

"Do you think she's doing you some kind of favor? I promise you she's not. If this blows up I'll have to dispose of all evidence. That includes you. I suggest you tell me where she's going."

"Honestly, I don't know."

Dr. Crane sneered at her in contempt. A shot of white smoke flew from the cuff of his jacket and into her face. The mist clouded her vision and quickly invaded her lungs. In an instant she felt paralyzed with fear. The wood floor beneath her rotted away, slowly turning to dirt. A swarm of insects burrowed up from the ground. They crawled over her feet and up her legs. She kicked at them frantically. When Vanessa looked to Dr. Crane for help she saw Scarecrow looking back at her. He was covered with so many insects it looked as if his body were formed by them. She recoiled and he grabbed her roughly before throwing her to the floor. His foot pressed hard against her throat and she felt as if her windpipe would be crushed.

"Stop lying to me." Scarecrow yelled.

Bugs teemed off his shoe onto her face. They invaded her mouth and became entangled in her hair. In the tiny part of her mind that was still rational she thought that whatever Julie had done it must have been significant. Good for her!

Vanessa's panicked state soon won back control as the insects engulfed her body threatening to bury her alive. The ground was so thick with them that she could no longer see her legs.

Scarecrow's interrogation continued unabated. With the pressure on her throat she found it impossible to answer him. Vanessa managed to draw in enough air to make one heartfelt plea,

"Please, make it stop." she begged.

It was all too much. Her head thrashed from side to side in an effort to shake some of the creatures lose.

"Get them off of me!"

Scarecrow removed his foot from her neck and she wasted no time getting to her feet. Vanessa brushed the bugs off her legs. She tore at her hair like a woman possessed and scratched her own skin as she saw the insects on her arms begin to tunnel under her flesh.

"That's enough for now" she heard someone say through her drug induced dementia.

She vaguely acknowledged the needle that pierced her skin. Almost instantly the hallucinations began to fade. The bugs crawled back into the earth and before she knew it she was standing on the hard wood floor again. Along came the realization that all these visions had been the product of her own mind which Dr. Crane seemed to be in complete control of. Exhausted she found herself back on the floor with her head tucked between her knees. She began to shake and cry. No convulsions followed this time but that didn't mean she was okay.

"Get up Vanessa." Dr. Crane ordered.

She looked up to see he had removed his mask. When she didn't respond to his command he pulled her to her feet. He grabbed a hold of her lower jaw and squeezed it tightly. His mouth was mere inches from hers.

"Don't touch me. I hate you." She cursed at him. Vanessa could see him for what he truly was-nothing but a vile predator hiding behind a handsome face and gentle demeanor.

"You don't have to like me. You just have to talk to me."

"I told you. I don't know anything. I didn't even know she worked here until she brought me back to my room that day."

"What did she say to you then?" he asked.

"She told me not to provoke you."

"Sound advice. What else?"

Vanessa hesitated in answering him afraid that the small amount of information Julie had given her might be enough to give her away.

Dr. Crane tightened his grip on her jaw,

"Is it time for another dose so soon Vanessa? I didn't think you were such a glutton for punishment." he taunted.

"No, please." Her voice cracked and her unstable legs finally gave out on her. Dr. Crane had to support her to keep her from collapsing.

"I can't bear it." she cried.

Vanessa had reached her breaking point. Only spite kept her from going over the edge. She would never give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had been the one to break her. He would take far too much pleasure from it.

"Just tell me what she said and this will stop." he promised.

"She said she knew someone who might be able to help. That's all. I don't know who she was talking about of where she was going."

"I don't believe you Vanessa." he said, emphasizing each syllable.

A cell phone came to her rescue. Since she was still on the verge of collapsing Dr. Crane had to hold her body against his with one arm and answer the call with the other.

"Crane" he said impatiently.

He didn't seem to care when she rested her head against his shoulder. He probably thought she was about to pass out. Vanessa was actually taking the opportunity to regain control of her faculties and eavesdrop on his conversation at the same time.

"Gotham is a series of islands sir. You'll have to be more specific."

Vanessa felt his hand drifting lower on her body until it came to rest on the small of her back. He pulled her body further into his and held her tightly.

"What about the files?" he asked.

She picked her head up suddenly. Try as she might she had not been able to make out what the person on the other end of the line was saying. Dr. Crane looked at her briefly and winked. Vanessa knew without a doubt that this conversation was about Julie.

"Very well, I'll be there in thirty minutes. Well done."

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and pushed her against the wall. His hands came to rest on her shoulders and a triumphant smile spread across his face as he touched his forehead to hers.

"It would seem Julie has saved your skin after all. My associates have her detained at the Docklands as we speak."

Dr. Crane let her go and turned to exit the room.

"Don't hurt her Jonathan, please. She was only trying to help me." Vanessa pleaded.

"I'm not going to hurt her Vanessa."

"You're not?" she asked in disbelief.

"Of course not, I hire people to do that kind of work for me."

Vanessa did not find this attempt at humor very amusing but he was heading toward the door again and she had to stop him quickly. She grabbed hold of his hand as he reached for his keys. She caught him off guard when he turned to her and she ran her fingers gently through his hair. Pulling him to her she kissed him over and over again, each kiss deeper than the one before it.

"Don't go." she said when she stopped.

"I wasn't aware you were so eager for my company."

As his hand tenderly caressed the side of her face Vanessa hooked her fingers underneath his belt and began pulling him toward her bed.

"Stay with me tonight Jonathan. Let her go and I'll do anything you want."

She could only hope that her attempt to feign desire was convincing.

Dr. Crane's hands snaked up the front of her shirt causing her to flinch slightly.

"Anything?" he asked coyly.

"Anything." she confirmed.

"Nice try Vanessa but you're a horrible actress. I'm afraid I must be going."

He quickly exited the room. Vanessa rushed after him only to have the door slammed in her face. She pounded her fists against it. She called out to him, begged him to show mercy but he was gone and Vanessa knew that no one would ever see Julie alive again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins**.

**Author's Note: Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews. For those of you who like Julie, well…..you're not going to be too happy with this chapter but please, read on.**

He arrived at the Gotham Docklands at precisely 6:45. As he had predicted it had taken exactly 30 minutes from Arkham. Thoughts of this latest episode with Vanessa plagued his mind. She had succeeded in ruffling his feathers yet again but he had maintained control of the situation. What annoyed him was she apparently thought of him as gullible. A little bit of flirting and a few kisses and he would melt like putty in her hands. She failed to understand that if or when they shared a bed it would be on his terms, not hers.

Jonathan parked by the entrance to Pier 14 and began walking down the poorly lit dock. Even at this relatively early hour the docks were deserted, further proof that Gotham's economy was almost completely dead.

They were waiting for him at the other end of the pier. Two men who matched the text book definition of mob enforcers and Julie. From the looks of things the men had worked her over pretty good. Jonathan could see that a rope coiled around her lower body. One end of it fastened around her waist, the other tied around a large cement block. The men hovered over her awaiting further instruction.

"Hi Julie. It's been a while. How have you been?" Jonathan asked, sarcasm and contempt dripping from each word.

Before Julie could say anything in response one of the men stepped toward him,

"We found her at the bus station about to catch a ride uptown. She had the files on her and everything, pretty god damn stupid if you ask me."

Ignoring the startling eloquence of that statement, Jonathan asked, "Do you have the files now?"

"Yeah, got em right here."

Reaching into the inside pocket of his trench coat the man removed two manila folders. They had been folded several times over which made Jonathan cringe but as he perused through them he found that all the contents were in order. After he double checked that nothing was missing he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Did she tell you anything?" he asked.

"Not much, She knows she's dead meat so she ain't talking, but we've got her cell phone now. We'll find out who she's been in touch with."

"Let me talk to her alone for a minute."

"Sure thing. Give us a yell when you're ready to get down to business." the man said before he and his associate stepped away.

He looked down at Julie who regarded him coldly. She seemed resigned to her fate and without fear.

"Who did you talk to about this?" he asked as he tapped the files.

"Go to hell Crane." came her reply.

He smiled at her. Her feistiness was a bit endearing. Part of him would miss her.

"So you were going to uptown Gotham? Isn't that where you sister lives with her two daughters? What was her name again? April, that's right. Does April know what kind of trouble you're in?"

"You're an idiot. Why would I take information like this to a housewife in Jerold?"

Did he say her feistiness was endearing? He changed his mind.

"Who _did_ you talk to then?"

"Don't worry. You'll find out soon enough." Julie taunted.

She seemed to get a great deal of satisfaction in watching him squirm. He was beginning to lose his temper.

"Who's the idiot? I gave you that job at Arkham. I made sure you were well paid. All I required in return was that you keep your mouth shut and do as I say. If you had followed those instructions you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

"Is Vanessa held to those same requirements?" she asked, anger flared up deep within her, "How can you live with yourself? Don't you remember the Hippocratic oath? You know, the part that says you're not supposed to sedate your patients so you can rape them?"

Jonathan was taken aback by this line of questioning.

"What? Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"I work the night shift doctor." She spit that title at him as if it were an insult, "I've seen you go into her room at night. You have no business being there at those hours."

"You don't have a clue what's in these files do you?" he asked.

"I know enough. You've got her on some kind of experimental drug. That's why she had the seizure isn't it? I've already spoken to Rachel Dawes in the D.A.'s office. She knows what you're up to."

"So you and Ms. Dawes think I'm drugging my female patients so I can take advantage of them?" he chuckled, "Well, without any evidence or a witness I don't think she'll be able to make much of a case will she?"

Julie's eyes widened as Jonathan pulled a scalpel from his pocket and grabbed a handful of her hair. He cut quickly as she tried to move away from him. As he grasped the severed lock of hair in his hand he tucked the scalpel back into his jacket.

"A little something for Vanessa to remember you by." he said.

Julie spat at him. Luckily he had backed away from her at that point and her poorly aimed projectile landed on his shoe.

"It's time." Jonathan yelled to the two men.

As they returned he addressed Julie for the last time.

"To set the record straight I have never laid an unwanted hand on Vanessa, I promise you."

Working together the two men pushed the cement block into the dark water. Julie quickly followed. She let out a shrill scream as she clung to the edge of the pier for the briefest of moments before disappearing under the surface. It was done. As he left, Jonathan couldn't help but notice that the night had become eerily calm.

When he looked at his watch it was only 7:00 p.m. He felt like he'd been at the docks much longer than that.

Jonathan wanted nothing more than to go home early and take an evening to relax but there was too much that needed to be done. He took a left when the light turned green and headed back to Arkham. He hadn't bothered to ask Julie if she'd made any copies of the files. She would have most likely lied to him anyway. Besides, she had been so hunted this past week he doubted she could have gone anywhere. The second she had shown her face in public his men had taken her. He had the originals back now and that's all that mattered.

When he entered the basement of the asylum he saw that Falcone's man had finally accessed the water main. Armed guards supervised as the inmates began pouring the first batch of toxin into the city's water supply. Now that the wheels were in motion more help would be arriving quickly. In a short period of time Gotham would get its first glimpse of hell on earth and everyone would come to know the extent of Dr. Jonathan Crane's power. For now he left the men to their work feeling confident that things were moving along nicely. As luck would have it he would be meeting Rachel Dawes face-to-face for the first time tomorrow morning. Falcone had called in another favor and Jonathan would now be putting a serial killer named Victor Zsaz to work in his asylum He welcomed the opportunity to size up Ms. Dawes and get a feel for exactly how much she knew. Rumor had it she already had a bone to pick with him over the last two men he had brought here. If she were and idealist as he'd been led to believe then the likelihood was high that she would need to be dealt with too.

Lost in his own thoughts he found himself outside Vanessa's door again. He entered her room and found her in a deep sleep. She didn't stir when he shut the door behind him and knelt by her bed bringing his face level with hers. Jonathan stayed there for a moment and watched her sleep. She'd been crying. He could see the evidence on her face and tear stained pillow. She looked beautiful to him in that moment, but he always found her beautiful when she expressed pain and fear. Jonathan thought about waking her up and telling her about Julie but decided to wait. It would be far better to leave her in suspense for a few days before breaking the news. He'd be able to enjoy her reaction much more if he could get some rest first.

Making one last stop in his office he searched his book shelf until he found what he was looking for. He pulled the desired book from the shelf and flipped to page 92. After giving the chapter a quick scan he placed it in his briefcase and started to his car. In his mind a plan was beginning to form.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins**

Vanessa hadn't seen Dr. Crane in two and a half weeks. Dr. Crane, Jonathan, whatever the hell she was supposed to call him. Jonathan seemed too personal. Dr. Crane seemed inappropriate as well. He hardly felt like her doctor anymore. During their time apart Vanessa had been left in near solitary confinement. She found her thoughts would often dwell on Julie and what had ultimately become of her. She pestered the nurses every time they entered her room. Did they know Julie personally? Had they heard anything from her? She never got any answers. The only person who didn't treat her like a leper was Audrey. She talked Vanessa's ear off to such an extent that sometimes she thought solitary confinement might not be so bad after all. Okay, that was a bit harsh. Audrey was good for current events even if she knew nothing about Julie or Dr. Crane. Through her Vanessa had learned that another District Attorney had gone missing, a man dressed as a bat had set himself on fire and jumped from a fourth story apartment building in the Narrows and the crime boss Carmine Falcone was a now a resident at Arkham. His room was just two floors above hers. It sent a chill down her spine when Audrey told her that Falcone had been driven mad with fear and now lay strapped to a table repeating a single word over and over again,

"Scarecrow."

Vanessa knew that somewhere along the line Falcone had run afoul of Dr. Crane. When that happened things seldom went well for the offending individual.

Vanessa was sure to remain on Audrey's good side even if her chatter could wear thin. She had even talked Audrey into bringing her some elastic bands so she could pull her hair back and finally get it out of her face. Maybe she could talk her into bringing a cheeseburger and fries next time she thought as she looked at her empty tray of food. Vanessa had just finished dinner and in keeping with her new nightly ritual she pulled her chair up to the window to observe the goings on in the parking lot. Sadly, this had become the highlight of her evening. She never thought that deliveries of toilet paper and paper towels could be so fascinating. Then again, she'd never been locked in a room with minimal human contact before either. She thought she was coping quite well even if she was a bit stir crazy.

In the parking lot a dolly loaded with boxes tipped over and two delivery men began arguing over who had been responsible. Vanessa was so focused on this scene that she didn't hear Dr. Crane until he spoke.

"Remember me?" he asked.

She must have jumped a foot in the air when she heard that voice. Dr. Crane smiled at her startled response. Vanessa had been waiting so long to see him but now she couldn't speak. She had been anticipating and dreading this moment, somehow convincing herself that Julie would be okay until he told her otherwise.

She studied him in an effort to pull the answers from him before he had the pleasure of telling her himself. There was nothing in those cold eyes. All she could see in him was a hint of fatigue.

"I brought you something. Consider it a gift." he said as he threw the object in her lap.

She picked it up and traced over it with her fingers knowing immediately what it was. Vanessa could almost imagine Dr. Crane viscously cutting it from Julie's head with the sole intent of bringing it here to shock and frighten her.

"You want me to cry don't you?" she asked, "Should I fall to the floor and say please don't hurt me Dr. Crane? Would that give you a thrill?"

This was not the reaction he had anticipated but he still looked interested in her response.

"What did you do to her? I want to know how she died." Vanessa demanded.

"It's none of your concern. Just know that it's done and we can put this foolishness behind us."

"It is my concern. She died trying to help me. There are people out there who do things like that. They'll risk their lives on principle. That's something _your_ feeble little mind wouldn't understand."

He absorbed her insult without a hint of emotion.

"Very well, if it's that important to you, she was drowned. It was relatively painless. Take comfort in that." he said in a dismissive tone.

"Did you do it personally?"

"Of course not."

"Will her body be found or will you let her family sit and wonder what happened to her, never knowing if she's alive or dead?"

It had been hard enough not knowing over these past two weeks. Vanessa couldn't imagine what it would be like to spend a lifetime not knowing.

She rose from her chair and approached him. He appeared enthralled, unable to take his eyes off of her.

"I don't want this." Vanessa said as she thrust the lock of hair back into his hand, "Why don't you put it back in your trophy case doctor?"

"We're off to a bad start already. I didn't come here tonight to argue with you. Although I must admit, we do it so well."

"Then why are you here?" she asked.

"You're hair is up." he said suddenly. His face became flushed and he seemed quite angry about this.

"Yeah, so?" she replied, wondering how the subject had been changed so quickly.

"Where did you get the elastic? I didn't authorize it."

"I don't know if I should tell you. You might have the person killed. Is this really a big deal?"

"I prefer your hair down." he said.

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind for the swimsuit portion on the competition." she said sarcastically. Dr. Crane must have developed a full blown obsessive-compulsive disorder since she'd last seen him.

"I want you to come for a walk with me Vanessa." he said.

"A walk, give me a break!"

"This isn't a joke. I have something to show you that will put everything into perspective."

Dr. Crane said nothing more to her as they entered the elevator and began their descent. Vanessa noted that the elevator required a key in order to operate properly. She stared at that key ring hanging from the control panel of the elevator until she felt his eyes on her. She quickly looked to the floor and took a deep breath. When the doors opened she was shocked to discover a place even more dank and dismal then her room. This must be the illustrious basement of Arkham. Not wanting to get lost in this place she kept close to Dr. Crane as they walked down the hallway. He pushed open a set of double doors and they stepped onto a balcony over looking the floor below.

Her jaw dropped at what she saw. Men with guns patrolled the isles while inmates (and she knew that's what they were by their orange jumpsuits) took on the task of making the toxin. Vanessa's eyes moved from station to station observing the toxins journey from start to finish until it was liquefied and poured into the water. Unable and unwilling to watch anymore she slowly began to back away.

Every fiber of her being wanted to run but her mind knew there was no point in it. The elevator would be useless without the key. She could try her luck in the halls but would have no idea where she was going. It was doubtful she'd get very far.

"What are you doing here Dr. Crane?" she asked timidly.

"This is the big picture Vanessa." he said as he waved his hand over the asylum floor, "I'm saving this city."

"You're crazy." was all Vanessa could say.

He turned abruptly and backed her into the corner. His hands gripped her arms so tight it caused her pain.

"Am I? Every single level of this city's infrastructure is corrupt, from the Governor's office to the DMV. The streets are teeming with criminals. What if we could start over? Don't you want this city to be a safe place again?"

"Yes, but not like this. You're going to kill everyone indiscriminately. There are still good people in this city."

"Where are they Vanessa? I've looked and I can't find them. All the good people that were able to leave have gone. Those who can't or won't eventually fall prey to the monsters that run free in Gotham. No one knows that more than you."

Realizing how tightly he held her Dr. Crane loosened his grip before he continued,

"Those scum killed your husband. They took everything from you. My God, they raped you while you lay dying on the floor and now you want to protect them. _That's_ crazy Vanessa."

After holding her composure for so long she felt her resolve start to slip. Tears rolled down her cheeks. He was scaring her. Not because of the crazed look in his eyes, not because of the passion with which he talked about killing thousands of people but because what he was saying was making sense to her.

"No, I can't listen to this. You killed Julie." she cried.

"Julie was not your friend. She had her own agenda. She stole files from my office and brought them straight to Carmine Falcone. They tried to blackmail me. They offered their silence in exchange for favors. If I made sure his men stayed out of prison he'd let me continue with my work. I assume Audrey told you where Falcone is now? He's there because I decided to end his reign of corruption and Julie, she played you for a fool for her own sick thrills. She got what she deserved."

"This isn't happening." Vanessa whispered.

"I know this is upsetting. Come on. Let's go back to my office and we can talk in private."

Vanessa had to lean against the corner of the elevator as they rode back to the fourth floor. She felt as thought she might faint and Dr. Crane practically had to drag her to his office. This level of the asylum was deserted at the moment. Everything was dead quiet, their footsteps echoing through the halls a further reminder that she was all alone with him.

When they entered his office he sat her down on his new couch and stood behind her. She noticed that the whole room had been refurnished. Moving up in the world are we?

He carefully pulled the elastic from her hair and let it fall around her shoulders. Jonathan Crane liked her hair down and Jonathan Crane always seemed to get what he wanted. His hands massaged her shoulders gently and she melted slightly at the contact. She couldn't deny her intrinsic human need to be touched, even if it was by a man she loathed. What he had said to her in the basement lingered in her mind until he spoke again.

"You played a key role in all of this Vanessa. I never could have done it without you. I wasn't one hundred percent sure the toxin would have the same effect on a sane mind as it did on the inmates. That's when you came along. I know it was hard on you, even terrifying sometimes but it was for the greater good. You'll be glad to know that no further testing is required."

His hands loomed at the base of her throat.

"So this is it?" she asked, "You've finished with me so now you're going to snap my neck or strangle me? Whatever you're going to do make it quick, I don't want to feel any pain."

It was kind of funny. She had never thought of him as the hands on type of killer.

He laughed softly,

"I have no intention of killing you."

He ran his hand through her hair then pushed it aside and kissed her gently on the neck.

"I thought we could celebrate our victory tonight." he purred in her ear.

Vanessa was at a loss for words but quickly left the couch to avoid his touch. She looked nervously around the room and noticed that the door to his office stood open. It was the first time she'd seen that happen.

"I know it's a lot to take in. If I'm going too fast I'll stop." he said.

He held his hand out to her,

"I'm not a monster Vanessa. I've had to do some things that were unpleasant but everything I did, I did for the sake of Gotham."

His outstretched hand took hold of hers and he pulled her closer. His other hand rested on the side of her face.

"I'll never forget the first time I saw you. You were staring off into space, lost in your own world because this one was too brutal. I looked at your patient folder and saw your list of prescriptions."

"Don't" she begged him.

"I know you were taking prenatal vitamins. You wanted to start a family."

Her heart began to pound in her chest. It felt as if a heavy weight lay across her shoulders. She made several efforts to speak before she was finally able to tell him,

"I was pregnant."

"I know." he said.

"I had just found out that morning. I wanted to surprise Dan but I never got to tell him. When I woke up in the hospital I just knew. I knew I had lost the baby. They didn't need to tell me."

"You lost the one thing that you had to remember him by. Your hope, your future." his voice was filled with empathy.

She broke down and fell into his arms. Vanessa was certain that her lamentations could be heard throughout the entire floor if anyone had been around to hear them.

"What has it been doing to you, keeping something like this secret for all this time?" he asked her.

Vanessa couldn't answer him. He had found her one remaining weak spot as she knew he would. This was the only thing she had bottled up, pushed down and tried to forget. Vanessa kept waiting to wake up in her room any minute now and find that this had all been some sedative induced dream. He removed his glasses and they were now truly eye-to-eye.

"Jonathan, I can't," she started to say before he interrupted.

"If you want to leave here now and go to the police that's your choice. I'll drive you there myself but think about the kind of people you'll be saving. You can walk out that door and leave Gotham to the murders and rapists or you can stay with me and we can start over."

He ended their embrace and she pulled away from him. Vanessa walked to the door and stood at the threshold, one foot rested in the hall, the other remained in his office. Jonathan turned away from her acting as if he were preoccupied with something on his desk. She looked back and forth between this man and the hall.

The choice was clear.

**Author's Note**: **Oh that Dr. Crane, he's a sneaky one and one of the best manipulators around. Will Vanessa fall for it? You'll have to stay tuned for the next installment!**

**First and foremost, thank you all again for your supportive reviews. I'm glad that you're enjoying the story. **

**I feel I may have made Vanessa a bit too sarcastic in this chapter. Please let me know if that's the case. I also know that it's a bit redundant to have Dr. Crane take two women down to the basement but it always bugged me that Rachel ran to the elevator knowing if didn't work without the key. I just figured an attorney would be more observant.**

**I've strayed a bit from the plotline of Batman Begins by making Dr. Crane aware of the plot to spread the toxin throughout the city rather than thinking it would be held for ransom. I just thought it was more interesting this way. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins**

She stood there for a good thirty seconds before she took a step back into the room and closed the door. Vanessa turned around to face him, her mouth hung slightly agape.

"I….I want to stay with you." she eventually said.

Jonathan looked up from his desk and smiled. He removed his coat and laid it across his desk. Vanessa watched as he approached her. Her breath quickening with every step he took. She could feel the cold steel door pressing against her back. This was the end of the line she thought. There was no where else to go.

"I knew you would make the right decision." he said.

He laid his hand against her chest and she shivered under his touch.

"Your heart is racing Vanessa. You don't need to be afraid."

Jonathan took both of her hands in his and slowly raised her arms above her head. He pressed his body against hers and for the first time she found herself pressing back. The way he slowly grazed his lips across hers was alluring. Feeling his breath hot against her face made her whole body tingle.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are to me?" he whispered, "You're all I could think about these past few weeks. No matter what happened, I knew I had to get back to you."

How did he have the power to make her feel this way? He left her speechless. All she could do was stare trancelike into those blue eyes.

"Leave your arms there." he told her and she readily obeyed.

Jonathan un-tucked her shirt and pulled it over her head before throwing it to the floor. If the feeling of the cold door against her back gave her a shock, she was quickly distracted when his hands cupped her breasts and he finally gave her that deep kiss she had so desperately craved. A moan escaped her lips as he pulled her away from the door and laid her on the ground. He quickly removed his tie and shirt before settling his weight on top of her. Vanessa relished the feeling of his warm skin against hers.

A few moments ago he had been her sworn enemy. Now she lay half naked underneath him begging for his touch. This man had powers of persuasion she was only beginning to understand.

Vanessa ran her nails down his back. Not enough to break the skin but she did receive a lustful growl in her ear for her efforts. That was a noise she had never imagined would come from Dr. Jonathan Crane.

The kisses that had originated by her neck now traveled south as he pulled her sweatpants away from her and explored every inch of her body, first with his hands, then with his mouth. By the time he finished her body quivered and she felt spent, but he was a doctor with an extensive knowledge of the human anatomy-should she have expected anything less?

It was Vanessa who made the next move, unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down past his hips.

"Please Jonathan." she said as she guided him inside of her.

As they began to move together Vanessa couldn't help but notice that even his love making had an aspect of the cold and analytical to it. He offered her no tender words or caresses during the act as her husband once had. Jonathan focused only on the task at hand. The only hint he gave that he was enjoying himself came at the very end when he moaned as she felt him pour into her. Vanessa opened her eyes at that moment. She wanted to see his face. He was propped up on his arms. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung open, his chest heaving. With his sweaty brow and tousled hair he was the most stunning man she had ever laid eyes on. Vanessa reached a hand up and stroked his cheek.

"Jonathan." she said his name softly.

He opened his eyes and regarded her warmly. Too tired now to rest his body weight on his arms he relaxed onto her and rested his head on her chest.

"This was the natural progression of things Vanessa. You were right not to fight it." he told her as he regained his breath.

"Natural progression, how romantic." she teased.

He rolled onto his side and grinned.

"There's only one thing left to do now." he said.

"What's that?"

"It's a surprise. I've been waiting for the right moment to give it to you."

Jonathan reached into his back pocket. She was looking at him expectantly when the phone rang.

"Please excuse me a moment." he said formally.

He stood and walked to the phone, adjusting his pants in the process.

"Dr. Crane." he answered.

Vanessa watched him as he continued to compose himself and speak on the phone simultaneously. At no time did he sound like anything less than the quintessential professional.

"Yes, it is an interruption. I'm in with a patient at the moment."

Jonathan looked over his shoulder at her and winked. She could see a bulge in the back pocket of his pants but couldn't guess what the object might be. What could he possibly want to give her?

"Very well, tell her I'll be there in fifteen minutes." he sighed.

Vanessa took that as her cue to get dressed. Jonathan hung up the phone and retrieved his shirt and tie from the floor.

"Someone from the D.A.'s office is here. They have questions for me regarding Falcone. I'm afraid I have to go."

"Why does the D.A.'s office care what happens to him? I thought they'd be happy just to have him locked away." Vanessa reasoned.

"I'm inclined to agree with you but some people are _never_ happy. Let's get you back to your room for now."

As they walked back to her room the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. Part of her felt like there had been a profound clearing of the air. The other part was telling her that she had just been poisoned in mind and body. Either way, she could not change what had happened and was desperately searching for a bright future.

Jonathan opened the door for her and followed her inside.

"I won't be gone long. It shouldn't be difficult to give this pest the brush off."

"Will you come back after?" she asked.

Instead of answering with words, Jonathan pulled her into his arms and kissed her forcefully.

"What do you think?"

Vanessa pushed him away,

"I think you had better go. You don't want to keep them waiting."

He looked at her for a moment and weighed his options.

"Yes, yes I do. I'm a doctor and my patients always come first."

He cocked his eyebrow and a moment later she found herself lying supine on her cot.

"Roll over Vanessa. I want you on your stomach."

She could hear him loosening his belt as he stood behind her. When he climbed on top of her she felt that belt wrap around her neck and tighten. Vanessa cried out and tried desperately to claw her way out from underneath him. He held her down firmly. There was no way he would let her go.

"No Vanessa, don't be afraid. I want you to relax. I promise you're going to enjoy this as much as I am."

Again she did as told. In fact she did everything he asked of her and allowed him to do whatever he wanted, even though she sometimes felt degraded by it. There was never a doubt in either of their minds that he was in complete control.

Rachel Dawes was made to wait that night. The normally punctual Dr. Crane left her cooling her heels for an extra half hour. Before he left her room he promised Vanessa he would be right back. That was a lie. He never came back. That morning when the door to her room opened two men she had never seen before entered with a list of questions a mile long.

**Author's Note: I haven't gone Mary Sue I promise. You'll find out about Dr. Crane's true feelings for Vanessa and his intentions in the next chapter.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins**

"Who are you?" Vanessa demanded.

"Mrs. Martinez, I'm Dr. Lehman from County General and this is Sergeant Gordon from the Gotham City Police Department. We've come to ask you a few questions."

"Does Jonathan know you're here?"

"I assume you mean Dr. Crane and no, we didn't discuss it with him."

"Well, I don't have to talk to you then. I'll only answer your questions if Jonathan says it's okay. Where is he?" Vanessa asked.

"He's upstairs. You're not going to see him again Vanessa so it's alright to talk to us. He's not going to hurt you anymore."

"Hurt me? What are you talking about? Jonathan would never hurt me. He loves me."

Dr. Lehman and Sergeant Gordon looked at each other briefly with troubled expressions on their faces.

"I've spoken to Rachel Dawes in the D.A.'s office. She said she had a conversation with a nurse who works here. This nurse seemed to think that Dr. Crane was acting in a way that was inappropriate. Did he ever put his hands on you or force you to do something you didn't want to do?" Dr. Lehman asked.

"He never forced me to do anything. I told you, Jonathan loves me. He made love to me. He said he could give back everything those men took from me. You have no right keeping us apart."

Sergeant Gordon ran both of his hands through his hair and turned away. He made no attempt to hide his disgust at what he was hearing.

"That sick son of a bitch." Vanessa heard him mutter.

Had he not brought his hand to his mouth she felt he would have liked to have said more.

"I'll tell you what's sick Sergeant Gordon, the Gotham City Police Department and every corrupt cop that works there. If you did your job and actually protected the people in this city then Jonathan wouldn't have to take such extreme measures." Vanessa said defensively.

"What kind of extreme measures Vanessa? What was he planning?" Dr. Lehman asked.

"That's none of your business." she spat back at him.

"Did he tell you about his toxin?"

"Of course he did. I helped him perfect it."

Sergeant Gordon took a step forward and asked, "How was he going to get it into the air?"

"You'll have to ask him I'm afraid. He can't share _every_ detail with me now can he?"

"He's not talking to us." Gordon said.

"Well, that's it then. There's nothing else to say." she said with scorn.

"He won't talk to us because he's wrapped up in a straight jacket-driven insane by his own toxin."

"Sergeant Gordon, please." Dr. Lehman countered.

"What?" Vanessa asked in alarm. She took the doctors hand, "Dr. Lehman you have to help him. Isn't there something you can do?"

"The damage is done. Only Crane has the antidote and he's in no shape to give us that information." he responded.

"Don't call him Crane. He's a doctor and a damned good one I might add. Show him the proper respect." she sneered.

Sergeant Gordon had had enough. An even tempered man, he did not raise his voice to her but his manner was direct and very much to the point.

"Do you know what he told us about you? He said he had fun breaking you down. He told us that he deliberately made you hate him then talked you into sleeping with him just to see if he could do it. He was more than willing to give us those details before I told him to shut his mouth or I'd do it for him. This man is a monster Vanessa. He's not capable of love so don't think that the two of you are Romeo and Juliet."

"No, I don't believe you." she said, shaking her head.

"He was going to come back for you alright. He called you and Rachel Dawes his last loose ends. When we took him into custody we found this in his pocket."

He pulled a clear evidence bag from the large manila envelop he had been carrying. Vanessa saw the syringe inside filled with an unknown liquid.

"We had it tested Vanessa." Dr. Lehman said, "It's morphine, just enough to be lethal to a woman of your height and weight."

"He almost killed Ms. Dawes last night Vanessa and he was going to kill you too." Gordon said.

"No, no, no." she kept repeating.

"He was going to euthanize you like a dog. That's all you were to him and those were his exact words." Gordon finished.

Some people take up racquet ball, others enjoy a stiff drink, it seemed Jonathan Crane destroyed people's lives and minds to relieve his stress. The glamour he had cast over her quickly began to fade.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening. How could I have been so stupid? Last night he said he wanted to give me something. He was going to kill me right there in his office wasn't he? If the phone hadn't rung I'd be dead right now."

She was horrified by the thought. She had been staring death in the face and hadn't even realized it.

"Vanessa, this is not your fault. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you over these past few months. Crane is a master manipulator and you were hardly in a state to defend yourself against his onslaughts. It's natural for someone in a situation like yours to form a bond with their tormentor. It's a coping mechanism known as Stockholm Syndrome. Crane saw the signs and exploited them but we're going to help you…" Dr. Lehman began before Vanessa cut him off.

"Stop, I've had enough help for now." she said.

His pledge to aid in her recovery hardly made her feel better. She wanted to curl up and die but only after she drove a stake through Dr. Crane's heart.

"Did he tell you anything more about his plans for the toxin?" Gordon asked.

"No, nothing that would be of any use to you. He said he was going to purge the city of corruption. What a crock of shit."

"That's all he said, nothing else?"

"There is something else, not about the toxin though." Vanessa said.

The lock of red hair Dr. Crane had presented as a gift the night before…..Julie.

"The nurse who contacted Rachel Dawes, has she been found?"

"How did you know she was missing?" Gordon asked.

"Dr. Crane told me. He said his men caught up to her at the Gotham Docklands after she stole some files from his office. I think she was drowned." Vanessa said softly.

"We'll have a dive team start searching right away. If she's there, we'll find her." Gordon reassured her.

"She wasn't working for Falcone was she?" Vanessa asked the question though she already knew the answer.

"No, she wasn't. She was trying to help you."

"I knew it. It didn't ring true but like an idiot, I accepted it. I should have been stronger. I should have done something more." Vanessa looked up towards the ceiling as if searching for guidance. Tears streamed down her face. Why had she allowed him to do these things? When had she decided to stop fighting?

"How did you get that mark on your neck?" Dr. Lehman asked.

Vanessa protectively brought her hand up to cover the wound. She had forgotten it was even there. Suddenly, it seemed the lights dimmed and she felt like she was falling. Although she remained present in the room with these two men her mind was in another reality, recalling the events that had taken place here just hours before.

"I can't breathe." she had cried as she tried to pull the belt away from her neck.

Dr. Crane had pulled it so tight it felt like it might break the skin. Up until that point he had been the more vocal of the two with his lustful grunts and moans resounding in her ear. He loosened the belt just enough to keep her from suffocating. He liked her better this way she knew. He was getting off on her submission.

"Are you still afraid of me Vanessa?" he had asked.

"Yes" she answered tearfully.

"Don't be. I'm in complete control."

He drove into her so violently now that her whole body ached.

"Say it Vanessa. Tell me I'm in control."

When she didn't respond he jerked the belt, momentarily cutting off her air before loosening it again.

"Tell me!" he demanded.

"You're in control." she chocked out.

That was enough to push him over the edge. Sated for the moment, he collapsed over her and pulled the belt away from her throat. Vanessa drew in a much needed breath as Jonathan rolled her onto her back.

He was a different man now, calm and tender as he kissed the raw skin on her neck

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Holding back the tears she had told him she was fine.

"I want you to sit up now Vanessa. Can you do that?"

As they sat on the bed together he brushed a stray piece of hair from her face and studied her intently. Those blue eyes had a way of burning into her that she found disconcerting.

"You enjoyed it, didn't you?" taking her silence as consent he rested his hand on her knee and said, "I knew you would. It's more exciting this way. What good is love without a little bit of fear?"

Love, that word had caught her attention. At the time she had been so desperate to be loved, so eager to please that she had agreed with him. She thanked him for what he had just done and asked him what he wanted her to do next. A devilish grin had fallen across his face as he asked,

"Are you a good girl Vanessa?"

Not understanding the point of the question she looked at him quizzically. His hand grasping the back of her head and gently pushing it downward told her what he wanted her to do.

"Get on your knees and show me what a good girl you are."

She hesitated, feeling uneasy about this request. Vanessa looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes.

"I won't force you to do anything you're uncomfortable with Vanessa. If you don't want to do this for me that's okay. I'll run off to my little meeting and I won't bother you again."

Fearing abandonment she had done what he wanted. Had gotten on her knees and taken him in her mouth.

"Sweet little Vanessa. You are my good girl." he had said as his hand massaged the back of her head.

Vanessa closed her eyes tight against the memories. What he had done had nothing to do with love and everything to do with domination and humiliation. He had patted her head and called her a good girl, just like one would a dog. He'd been mocking her, laughing at her the whole time. It wasn't enough that he had locked her away in his asylum and tormented her all this time. No, that hadn't been nearly enough for him. He had to have everything. He was worse then the men who had led her into his care in the first place. They had been horrible men motivated by greed and lust but at least their motivations were clear. Vanessa had no idea what drove Dr. Crane to do the things he did other than his own enjoyment and simply because he could. Vanessa was filled with remorse for what she had done. He had defiled her over and over again and she had allowed it because she thought he was the only thing she had left. She could shower all she wanted but she would never wash him away. Dr. Crane had marked his territory well leaving his scars, for the most part, on the inside.

"Vanessa, how did you get that mark?" Dr. Lehman asked again, snapping her back into reality. "Did Dr. Crane do that to you?"

"Yes." Vanessa admitted.

She stood up quickly never wanting to lie on that bed again.

"He made me lie on my stomach and he tied a belt around my neck before he…" she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

Vanessa buried her face in her hands and wept. She was overcome with shame although she had done nothing wrong.

"It's okay Vanessa. You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready." Dr. Lehman told her.

Sergeant Gordon put his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"I'm pathetic." she cried in frustration. Her heart was breaking.

Sergeant Gordon looked her straight in the eyes and said,

"Don't you ever think that. Do you hear me? Not ever. You did what you had to do to survive."

Vanessa could sense the kindness in this man. If only her instincts had been so keen last night. He meant it when he said he wouldn't let Dr. Crane near her again. Finally, she would be safe.

"He hurt me." was all she said back. Her voice sounded so vulnerable and childlike it surprised her.

"I know he did but he's locked away now Vanessa and they'll never let him out."

"Can I go home now? Please, I just want to go home. I can't stay in this room anymore." she pleaded.

Sergeant Gordon looked to Dr. Lehman not knowing what to tell her.

"I'm sorry Vanessa. There are certain procedures that have to be followed. It would be impossible to just let you walk out the front door."

"There has to be something we can do. Can you at least have her moved to another room?" Gordon asked.

"Yes, we can. You won't have to spend another night in this room Vanessa and we're going to get you home as soon as possible. I promise."

As they were beginning to leave, Vanessa stopped Sergeant Gordon.

"I knew I remembered your name. You were the one who brought me back. You saved my life."

"I took you from the frying pan and dropped you into the fire is how it seems." he said in what she could tell was his normally humble fashion.

"You did the right thing. You're a good cop and I thank you."

"I appreciate that. Take care of yourself Vanessa. I'll see you again soon."

There she was, alone again with nothing but her thoughts. Dr. Lehman told her he would be back shortly with a new room assignment for her. He expressed concern in leaving her alone but she assured him she would be fine until he returned. In her heart she knew the truth. No matter what anyone said or did she would never again be fine.

**Author's Note: I still don't know how I feel about this chapter. Something about the flow just seems off but after re-writing it a dozen times I resigned myself to the fact that I'll never be happy with it. Maybe it's the subject matter that's getting to me? I've done some pretty nasty things to poor Vanessa but she's going to have a happy ending.**

**In this chapter I was trying to show that Vanessa has hit rock bottom and that Dr. Crane is a rather twisted, cold-hearted individual. Things are going to be very different when the two of them meet again. **

**There's a three way conversation going on in this chapter and hopefully I've been clear as to who is speaking and when. I also hope that I've kept Jim Gordon in character. Let me know what you think.**

**Looking back over past chapters I can't help but notice little typos here and there (me instead of my, etc..) I don't have a beta reader so I apologize and beg for your mercy.**

**Thank you again Not Human, golden peaches, x0x Samantha and everyone else for reviewing. You guys are the best!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins**

Pandemonium; was there any other word for what was happening here? From the window of her new room, Vanessa could see out into the city. An all too familiar white fog swept through it. The streets were swarming with people running in every possible direction, but the chaos was not confined to the Narrows. It had spread to the halls of the asylum as well.

When her door had popped open that evening she had held her breath in anticipation of who might enter. That's when the screaming had started. These weren't cries of fear or agony; these were the manic cheers of victory. Inmates from every wing of Arkham were fleeing the asylum, hell-bent on wreaking havoc in the Narrows. Would Jonathan come for her? Or would Rachel Dawes be his target this night? They shared that bond now, she and Rachel. They were both loose ends.

Vanessa stood still in the darkness of her room, more thankful than ever that she'd been relocated. She was unsure of what to do and where to go. This room was a dead end; if Jonathan or anyone else found her here she would be trapped. If she got outside and breathed the air she would succumb to the toxin, just like everyone else. Vanessa decided the best course of action would be to leave this room, to find a suitable hiding place within the building, and lay low for a while.

After a fresh wave of inmates rushed by her door, she dared to peek out into the hallway. Everything seemed to be deserted. She ventured out a few steps; still nothing. She had only left this floor once since she'd been moved here and was unsure of which way to exit. Her gaze fell on a fire extinguisher across the hall. _This could come in handy_, she thought as she plucked it from the wall. That's when she saw _him_. Through some miracle he had not seen her; Vanessa watched as he entered a room six doors down from where she stood. She clutched the extinguisher close to her body and backed into her room.

She could hear him going from room to room, tearing each one apart.

"Where are you?" he yelled, over and over.

Vanessa heard crashing and pounding; it was as if he were trying to bring the place down. Where did he think she was hiding, in the walls? Then she thought back to Sergeant Gordon's words; Jonathan had been driven insane by his own toxin. Vanessa thought about the ramifications of what that meant. How does a person who was never really sane to begin with go crazy? What form does it take? She had no time to ponder that now; Jonathan was in the room next to hers. A confrontation was fast approaching. She moved just to the side of the door and readied herself.

"You can do this, be strong," she whispered.

As he came through the door in a frenzy, she swung the extinguisher like a bat, catching him square in the mid-section. He nearly keeled over, but did not go down. Vanessa followed up with a strike across the shoulder blades which left him sprawled on the floor. When he rolled over and saw his attacker, he smiled at her as if he'd just been reunited with a long lost love.

"Vanessa. Thank God you're alright."

She had always thought that when the time came for them to face each other again, she would be terrified. Instead she was filled with a rage so powerful she could scarcely control it. Vanessa liked this new feeling; she would be his victim no longer.

"I'm not falling for that shit. Where's your morphine now, you fucker?" she screamed at him, swinging the extinguisher again.

Jonathan raised his arms defensively but still grunted in pain each time she leveled a blow.

"You were going to kill me, you son of a bitch!"

He looked at her in amazement, shocked by the level of her anger.

"Why?" she yelled.

Jonathan gave her no answers. Knowing the truth was irrelevant now anyway.

Timing her strikes, he finally managed to catch the weapon and knock it from her hands. Vanessa wasted no time trying to retrieve it. He was up and after her in an instant. They collided with one another and fell to the floor, Jonathan ending up on top. Vanessa thrashed underneath him, finding physical power she had never known. He was barely able to contain her flailing arms and legs as she punched and kicked at him.

"Stop!" he yelled in anger and frustration, when he at last managed to pin her down.

Vanessa froze. They stared at each other, both of them out of breath. She did not know this man lying on top of her. Clothed in the remnants of what appeared to be a straightjacket, he was the very essence of insanity. Jonathan Crane was gone, replaced by a madman with raging eyes.

"They tacked three counts of rape onto the list of charges they intend to file against me, should my esteemed colleague Dr. Lehman decide I'm fit to stand trial. Why do you think they decided to do that?" he asked in an accusatory manner.

"Because you deserve to rot in prison," she hissed through clenched teeth.

"I don't think that's going to happen. Everyone has a get out of jail free card tonight, but there is something we have to clear up before I go. I think you're in denial, Vanessa, because I can't recall ever having raped you. In fact, you were a most willing and eager participant. I never once heard you say no. After our time together I didn't think that word was still in your vocabulary."

"Well, I'm saying it now."

She jerked her head up suddenly and slammed her forehead against his nose. Blood poured from his face onto hers as he howled in pain and brought his hands to his face. She fought to get out from underneath him, but he grabbed her head in both hands and slammed it against the floor. On the third hit she saw stars. When she hit the fourth time she lost consciousness.

Vanessa was disoriented when she woke up. It was impossible to know if she'd been out twenty seconds or twenty minutes. She was moving down the hall, but she wasn't walking of her own volition. Was she on a gurney? As she became more aware of the goings on around her she felt his hands on her ankles; Jonathan was dragging her down the hall. Vanessa had no idea where he planned to take her. He turned a corner sharply, and she recognized the interior of his office. If he got her in there, it would be over. They would be alone and completely out of sight. He would be free to do anything he wanted. Vanessa grabbed the door in desperation as he tried to pull her inside.

"Awake, are we?" he asked.

She kicked her legs, trying to free herself from his grasp.

"Vanessa, please; you've maintained a certain level of dignity throughout all of this. Don't lose it now."

Jonathan dropped her ankles and pried her fingers from the door before pulling her inside and kicking it shut with his foot. Vanessa backed away from him into the corner. He didn't come after her right away, as she had expected. He grabbed a box of tissues from his desk and looked in the mirror as he cleaned his bloodied face. She took this opportunity to clean her own face as well, settling for her shirt sleeve in lieu of a tissue. There was nothing around her that could be used as a weapon, nothing at all. She had only her bare hands. Vanessa hoped it would be enough.

"Look what you did," he said, his voice filled with menace. "No shot of morphine for you, Vanessa. It's not going to be that easy now."

Vanessa had always sensed that Jonathan was a powder keg of emotions hidden behind a frigid exterior. He had proven it to her the night before when she had so foolishly given herself to him. The calm and collected if not sinister man had disappeared, and a new man with an undeniable need to frighten and dominate had emerged. He had a lust for power, but he could always control himself, and always knew when to stop. Jonathan had lost that control now. He turned and stalked towards her. Seething hatred filled his eyes. She could not guess his intentions.

He pulled her to her feet and they grappled within that small office briefly before he slammed her into the wall. His hands wrapped around her throat and he squeezed with incredible force.

"You brought this on yourself, Vanessa."

Her nails dug into the side of his neck; he grimaced at the lacerations she inflicted, but refused to let her go. He pushed her harder into the wall. Vanessa fought for air, but felt she was beginning to fade.

"I'm a forgiving man, Vanessa, but you have to earn it. Care to barter for you life? That little mouth of yours is so very skilled."

He licked his lips as he looked at her expectantly. Vanessa shook her head no. She was sick of him and his goddamned sense of entitlement. He felt the whole world and everyone in it belonged on their knees, ready to service him at a moment's notice.

"Suit yourself. You can die if you want to. Either way, you're going to look at me the whole time."

Vanessa drove her knee into his groin repeatedly, then pushed off against the wall with her legs. They fell to the floor again. This time Vanessa was on top, and, more importantly, his hands were no longer around her neck. She scrambled to her feet and threw the door open. As she turned left and ran down the hall she saw the extinguisher fifteen yards away. Vanessa went for it with Jonathan hot on her heels. She grabbed it and swung blindly, catching him on the side of the head. He went down hard and lay there, perfectly still for a moment, before slowly turning onto his back. Vanessa raised the weapon above her head, never taking her eyes off this pathetic form beneath her.

"Can you really do this? Can you kill him?" a little voice inside her asked.

"Yes," she answered, "because if the situation were reversed, he wouldn't hesitate."

"Hey, pretty lady," an unfamiliar voice yelled, causing her to stop short.

A new group of inmates had just made their way onto the fourth floor from God-knew-where. These must be the holdouts, cruising through the asylum looking for prey. These were the best of the best; Arkham's finest.

The cat calls intensified as the men drew closer.

"I'd run if I were you, Vanessa," Jonathan taunted. "These men haven't seen a woman in years. If they get their hands on you, it won't be pretty."

"You should follow your own advice, Jonathan. I bet they haven't seen a man as pretty as you in a while either. I'm sure they'd love a chance to get their hands on the good doctor."

Feeling triumphant, Vanessa bid a hasty retreat down the hall. When she dared to turn around Jonathan was nowhere to be seen, but the other inmates still pursued her. She came to the entrance of the stairwell and pushed against the door. To her horror it did not budge. She threw herself against it in desperation.

"Open, damn you!" she screamed.

They were close to her now, no more than ten feet away. As they closed in around her she pulled the pin on the extinguisher and fired it off. While the mob was driven back and temporarily blinded, Vanessa slammed the butt of the extinguisher against the door handle. She was relieved when it gave way and the door opened. She flew down the stairs, never looking behind her to see if anyone followed. She exited on the second floor and surveyed her apparently deserted surroundings. After a bit of cautious searching she discovered a small storage closet and barricaded herself inside. Vanessa huddled in the corner, only now having the chance to realize just how shaken up she really was.

The asylum lost power during the night, which wasn't surprising. Vanessa stayed there in the dark, listening to the riots outside as the room grew colder. Somehow she managed to fall asleep, even though she shivered uncontrollably.

The sound of the door being broken down roused her from her sleep. At first she thought it was Jonathan or one of the other inmates coming for her, but she was chilled to the bone and too weak to do anything about it. She didn't even sit up.

"Gotham City Police Department, open this door or we'll break it down."

_You're going to have to break it down,_ Vanessa thought, _because I can't seem to get up._

It took them a while to penetrate the fortress she had constructed, but they eventually managed to enter the room.

Was she falling asleep again? It felt that way.

"Vanessa, I've been looking everywhere for you," Sergeant Gordon said as he rushed to her side. "You're cold as ice. Can you walk?"

He didn't wait for her to answer. He scooped her into his arms and yelled for someone to bring him a blanket.

"Just tell me you caught Jonathan. Tell me he didn't get away," she said as coherently as possible.

"He's gone, Vanessa. We don't know where he is. I'm sorry."

"He'll come after me," she stated flatly.

"Not if I can help it."

**Author's Note: Yeah! Vanessa finally kicked butt, it's about time.**

**For those of you who were wondering; that is the same door that gave Julie trouble back in chapter 10. Somebody should really call maintenance.**

**Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews and a special thanks to Not Human for the beta-read and for helping me overcome my fear of comas. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins**

Jonathan stumbled out of Arkham with a pain in his head so intense, he could hardly think straight. As much as he hated to admit it, Vanessa had been right; he could not have stayed in that hallway, surrounded by his former patients. One-on-one, they feared him; but, they might find courage in numbers, and Jonathan was certain they would be thirsty for revenge after he'd used them as his personal guinea pigs for all this time.

He made his way into the Narrows, casting off his tattered straightjacket and suit coat, his glasses already long gone. Coming across an unconscious, possibly dead man lying in the street, Jonathan removed the poor sap's leather jacket, scarf and hat. Acquiring the new outfit served a duel purpose, changing his appearance and keeping him warm at the same time.

In a way, he owed Vanessa his thanks for the beating she had inflicted on him. He no longer resembled the Dr. Jonathan Crane everyone knew and respected; he looked like another one of the beaten and bloody citizens of Gotham, trying to survive the riots. He followed the crowd over the only bridge in the Narrows that hadn't been raised. Law enforcement had left one bridge down to get the injured out, and allow the police and firefighters in. He kept his head down, avoiding all eye contact. In an ocean of frightened and injured people, it was easy to maintain his anonymity.

A police officer stopped him in the street and, for a moment, he thought he'd been caught, but the officer simply pointed him in the direction of the paramedics and told him to get himself looked at. Jonathan nodded and continued moving, quietly exhaling with relief. After that, it was easy to slip away. Looking back, he was shocked at how easy it had been.

He knew exactly where he was going. It was less than two miles from here. Sticking to the back roads, he made his way to Twenty-Eight Spruce Lane. Luckily for him, Vanessa lived in a corner unit, meaning she only had one neighbor to the left. The right side of her townhouse abutted the woods; probably the reason the men who had attacked her that night had chosen it in the first place. Under the cover of darkness, Jonathan made his way to the back of the house. Though the night was cold, he couldn't risk breaking a window to gain entry into her home, so he huddled in the bushes beside the basement window and waited.

When the neighbors finally left for work that morning, he used a rock to break out one of the small basement windows. It was unlikely anyone would notice his crude mode of entry with the windows obscured by shrubbery the way they were.

_My naïve Vanessa, hiding places like these are attractive to criminals. You were asking for trouble_.

He boldly walked up the basement stairs into her living room, grabbing a flashlight along the way. Depending on how much light the streetlamps outside cast, he might need the light to maneuver, especially without his glasses. He'd have to be sure to use the utmost discretion, of course. He wouldn't want the neighbors to become wise to his presence.

Vanessa's home looked like a tornado had passed through it. Her attackers had ransacked the place looking for valuables; the police had been through after that, looking for traces of evidence. Early in his career, Jonathan had worked with patients who had survived violent crimes, similar to the one Vanessa had experienced. They often spoke of the horror that awaited them when they returned home, and the excruciation experience of having to clean up their own blood.

Morbid curiosity was driving him to investigate the master bedroom where the crime had occurred, but hunger drove him to the kitchen first. Jonathan rummaged through her pantry, snacking on granola bars, dried fruits and crackers. He noted that she seemed to love Spaghetti-O's and Kraft dinner - not really his taste per se, but beggars can't be choosers. Maybe he'd cook something later before the neighbors got home.

He opened the refrigerator and noticed the beer inside; he'd have some of that later as well. Yes, he was going to make himself quite at home. After downing several glasses of water, he ascended the stairs in search of her bedroom. As soon as he reached the upstairs hall, the odor hit him. It was a miracle the neighbors hadn't noticed the stench of stagnant blood and grey matter that had been left to rot over the past three months.

With unfettered excitement, he entered the bedroom. It had been torn apart, just like the rest of the house; furniture had been knocked over, clothes were strewn about. The sheets and blankets had been stripped off the bed, and only a bare and heavily blood stained mattress remained. For the sheer amount of violence that had taken place in this room, things didn't look that bad; he had been expecting worse. There were four little spots of blood on the carpet by the dresser, and another smear of blood approximately two-and-a-half feet above them. Jonathan knew exactly what had happened here; he could see it vividly in his mind. Vanessa, struggling for air, a bag wrapped snuggly around her head. How would _she_ react when she saw this?

He'd spent the long, cold night fantasizing about that. He would be waiting for her when she came home; he'd be hiding in the house somewhere, maybe in the spare bedroom. She would see the blood; smell the odors and she would break down in tears. That's when he would make his presence known. He would come up behind her, gag her, and bind her wrists with some of her husband's ties. That semi-literate troglodyte Gordon had called him a pervert and a rapist; well, he would force Vanessa onto that mattress, shove her face into that putrid stain and show her over and over again the true meaning of rape. She would beg him to stop, beg him for mercy and when he was finally finished with her, he would be merciful. He was not an unkind man after all, and he would take pity on her. She would be allowed to die; he just hadn't decided how he wanted to kill her yet.

Reluctantly pulling himself away from his fantasy, he took some of her husband's clothing from the closet. Since he knew the neighbors were gone, he decided to risk taking a much needed hot shower. He shaved, brushed his teeth and even used her husband's deodorant. Jonathan was pleased with how quickly and how well he had slipped into the roll of husband. He planned to take good care of Vanessa, make sure she got everything that was coming to her. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror; his ear and the side of his face were badly bruised from where she'd hit him with the fire extinguisher. Her fingernails had left deep scratches along his neck, and even he could not dismiss the crazed look in his eyes.

His reaction to the toxin had been unexpected. Instead of being reduced to a sniveling heap like most others, he had been set free. Of course, Jonathan Crane had spent his entire life confronting the fears most would run from; all save one. He had wasted so much time being afraid that he would lose control of his well-ordered life. Now that it was gone, he finally felt release.

Jonathan searched through what was left of Vanessa's belongings, wanting to get a feel for the life she had led before that night; why he felt the need to gather this information was a mystery even to him. He found her wedding album nestled in the bookcase and removed a five-by-seven photograph of her and her husband. He traced over Vanessa's image with his fingers and felt his heart sink. He softened, if only for a moment. Jonathan couldn't begin to understand or describe what he was feeling; he missed her, yearned for her, and longed to possess her. It wasn't because he loved her; that had nothing to do with it. She represented a time in his life, not too long ago, when he had been on top of the world- now, all of that was gone. He had lost _everything_. Jonathan sneered at the photo and tore it apart, scattering the pieces on the floor. He stormed out of the bedroom and went back downstairs. His stride was purposeful. He would succeed in one thing; he and Vanessa would finish their therapy.

He returned to the living room and turned on the television, setting the volume as low as possible.

_So, is this what it's like to be a celebrity?_

He and his toxin were on every station. They spoke of him as an evil genius, which made him laugh. When a picture of Vanessa appeared on the screen next to his, he perked up. The newscast said she was in the hospital being treated for hypothermia. _I knew you would find a way to evade those inmates. You always were a clever one. _ The anchorwoman went on to speak of Vanessa's bravery while in the hands of the evil Dr. Jonathan Crane. He sighed, and looked at her picture on the screen again, more closely this time. There was nothing at all special about her; she was five-foot-one on a good day, more cute than pretty. She looked younger than her thirty-two years with her soft face and wide eyes. It was that naiveté, that vulnerability that had first drawn him to her, like a moth to a flame.

_Why am I here? This is too risky. Why can't I just let you go_?

He knew damn well why; because when they had been together for the first time, just the two of them moving as one, she had said something to him that haunted him to this day. When she had first begun whispering to him, he was prepared to hear the clichéd "I love you," or something equally as corny. He would have dismissed that as an outright lie, or attributed it to her being caught up in the emotion of the moment; but that had not been what she had said. She had made a request, a request that rocked him to such an extent that he had made up his mind then and there to go through with his plan to kill her; a plan that, until that moment, he had been on the fence about.

Jonathan turned off the television in disgust and paced around the room. She would regret having made such a request of him. When they met again, there would be a reckoning.

Two car doors slammed outside, immediately catching his attention. Jonathan looked through the peephole of the front door and saw two white vans parked in front of the house - one from a cleaning service specializing in crime scene cleanup and decontamination, the other from a home security company. He ran upstairs, unsure of what to do. In a matter of minutes, there would be people all over the house - people who would be meticulously cleaning every inch of it. Unless he came up with a plan quickly, he would not be able to stay here. Getting out without being seen would be difficult, getting back in would be next to impossible. He ran back to the master bedroom and grabbed the wet towel he had used after his shower and his old clothing; he certainly couldn't leave that kind of evidence behind, no matter what he decided to do.

The irony of the whole situation was not lost on him. Vanessa had been locked in his asylum with no way out for three months; now here he was, trapped in her home with no clear means of escape.

Jonathan froze in the upstairs hallway as the front door opened. He listened to the people file in; shortly afterward, a vacuum cleaner started. In desperation, he looked up. A wave of relief washed over him as he sprung into action.

_Vanessa, you're not safe yet,_ _my_ _love. I'll be waiting for you when you get home._

**Author's Note: First and foremost; thank you Not Human for the beta read and for helping me take my writing to the next level.**

**Dreamer.0110, golden peaches, xOx Samantha and missmae2185, thank you for your wonderful reviews. You are the wind beneath my wings ;)**

**Okay, in this chapter I've hinted at a lot of things that have, and are going on behind-the-scenes. For instance – what did Vanessa say to Jonathan to get him so fired up? Who sent those workers to Vanessa's house? (That one _is_ kind of obvious though) Where did Jonathan run to, and what are his plans now that someone has thrown a monkey wrench into his well thought out scheme? Find out the answers to all these questions, and more, in the coming chapters!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins**

"Vanessa, I really don't think this is a good idea," Jim said in earnest, as they stood in her front yard. "Barbara and I would be happy to have you, if you want to stay somewhere else for awhile."

"I appreciate the concern, but sooner or later – I'll have to face this."

"I'm just worried about you, Vanessa. Crane is still out there; it's not safe."

"He won't come here. If he even managed to get out of the asylum alive, he's long gone by now. Sticking around Gotham, or coming after me would be crazy."

"He _is_ crazy, Vanessa; don't forget that," Jim warned.

"Not that kind of crazy. He's gone; I'm sure of it."

Jim looked down at the ground, choosing his next words carefully.

"There's something else," he said. "When you open that door, you have to be prepared for what you're going to find."

"I know, but whether I go in now, or two weeks from now won't make a difference; things won't miraculously go away."

"Okay, but I'm going in with you, whether you want me to or not," he insisted.

She smiled at him warmly as she opened the front door and stepped inside. Vanessa's jaw dropped; her home was…spotless. Not a single item was out of place. She and Jim went upstairs and found the rest of the house to be equally as clean. It was like nothing had ever happened. Even the bedding in the master bedroom was new. For a moment, Vanessa wondered if she was in the right house.

"Who did this?" she asked, not expecting an answer.

Utterly speechless, they returned to the kitchen where she found the refrigerator and pantry had been fully stocked with her favorite foods.

Vanessa looked at Jim, who was now reading through an envelope that had been left on the kitchen table.

"It looks like you have a new home security system as well. I think we just missed the installers," he said.

"I don't get it; why would someone go to all this trouble?" she asked.

"I guess you have a secret admirer; the good kind this time," he said as he handed her another small envelope with her name written on it. "Read this, and I'll get the system armed."

She opened the envelope slowly and unfolded the letter inside:

_**Vanessa,**_

**_I know what it's like to lose the people you love the most in this world. I only hope to provide you with a small amount of comfort and safety during this difficult time._**

_**Best Wishes,**_

_**B**_

"_Who the heck is B?"_ she wondered.

"It's all set, Vanessa," Jim yelled from the hallway. "If somebody tries to get in, we're going to know about it. This is amazing; crime scene clean-up services like this cost about $250 an hour, and this security system is top-of-the-line."

"So now do you feel more comfortable leaving me by myself?" she asked.

"No; I still plan to drive by your house at least every ten minutes, call you constantly, and drop by unexpectedly to make sure you're alright," he only half-joked.

"Thanks, dad," she said with a smile.

Since they had met in the asylum face-to-face, he had gradually become like a surrogate father to her. After the riots, when they had moved her back to Gotham General, he had stopped in at least once a day to visit. When they released her from the hospital, he had insisted on bringing her home.

"Keep this system armed at all times, Vanessa; no exceptions. If you see even the slightest indication that Crane is around, or if he tries to contact you in any way, I want you to call the police immediately. I'd rather have a dozen false alarms then have that maniac get near you again."

"Believe me, if I see him again, you'll be the first to know. Now will you get out of here? Go home and see your family; I'll be fine."

"Okay, okay I'll go, but I _will_ be checking on you soon."

Vanessa gave him a kiss on the cheek before he left. It truly warmed her heart to have a man like him in her life. Thank God not every soul in Gotham was lost. She thumbed through the owner's manual of her new security system; apparently, there was another control panel in the upstairs hallway that she had passed by without noticing.

_My powers of observation are as keen as ever!_

That control panel had a panic button; if she pressed it, a silent alarm would summon the police. She prayed she would never need to make use of it.

The house was quiet now; the gentle humming of the refrigerator was the only sound. Her hands started shaking – grief and anxiety were beginning to take hold. How was she going to spend her first night alone in this house? It didn't seem possible.

Vanessa turned on the television for distraction and immediately regretted doing so. Jonathan's picture filled the screen; she felt like someone had just punched her in the stomach. Would it always be like this? She hoped not. Her only consolation was that everyone else knew what he looked like, whether they wanted to or not. There was no way he could show his face now without being recognized.

She turned the television off, deciding she had more pressing matters to attend to. She grabbed her car keys and stepped into the garage. Something flew straight at her face when she stepped through the door, and she screamed in terror; a million thoughts rushed through her mind in that instant. How could she have been so stupid? She should have gone to Jim's house or at least had him check every inch of her home before she let him leave. Jonathan had been waiting, waiting for her to be alone until he made his move. She slowly pulled her hands away from her eyes, afraid of what she was going to see. A chipmunk scurried by her feet and ran face first into the garage door, trying to get out. Well, this rodent wasn't as frightening as Jonathan Crane, but she yelled again in shock as she raised the door.

"Shoo, get out of here! You're nothing but a mouse with a fluffy god damned tail," she yelled.

When her heart rate returned to normal, she got in the car and backed out of the driveway. Driving for the first time in three months was a wonderful experience. Funny how we take these simple things for granted. If nothing else, her experience had given her a new appreciation of life. She stopped by a local flower shop, and picked up two bouquets before heading to the cemetery.

"Hey you," she said as she approached her husbands grave. "Sorry it took me so long to get here. I got a bit held up, but you probably knew that already."

Being here, seeing his grave, was more reality than she could handle right now. Maybe it had been a bad idea to come here so soon. She felt guilty; guilty that she had survived and he had not, guilty that she had been with another man, and guilty that it had taken her so long to visit him. These things had been beyond her control – for the most part. Nevertheless, Vanessa began to ache inside.

"I miss you," she sobbed.

She placed the flowers on his grave and sat there in silence for what seemed like ages. Finally, she rose to her feet.

"I've got to go, sweetheart. There's someone else here that I have to visit, but I'll be back soon" She paused for a moment, staring at the flowers she had just placed on his grave "I love you," she said softly.

As she walked through the cemetery, she noticed that the seasons were changing. Winter was giving way to spring; the days were getting longer and most of the snow had melted. A patch of it still covered Julie's grave marker; Vanessa bent down and brushed it away.

_Julie Knauss _

_1970-2005_

Vanessa placed the flowers just below the grave stone. That feeling of guilt returned. She couldn't help but feel responsible for Julie's death.

_No, Jonathan did this, all of this._

A cold wind swept over her and she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth.

"You fought for me when I wasn't strong enough to fight for myself. I'll never forget you."

Vanessa was reticent in leaving; she somehow felt disrespectful for not staying longer, but it was getting dark now, and she wanted to get home before the sun set. Something about coming home to a dark house made her uneasy.

Thankfully, she made it home just before nightfall. She entered the house and punched the security code into the keypad, being sure to re-arm the system as she had promised Jim she would. She ate dinner in the living room, listening to music instead of watching television. After consuming far too much wine, she fell asleep on the couch. Her first night back at home passed without incident.

The next two weeks went by in much the same manner. At Jim's request, she had begun meeting with a therapist twice a week. Vanessa's only demand had been that the therapist be female. Things were going well, but the nights were tough. She'd taken to drinking three or four glasses of wine before bed, just so she could sleep through the night. All the typical noises of home – the house settling, the heat coming on - frightened her and kept her awake. Without the wine, she couldn't escape the anxiety and the feeling that she was being watched. It wasn't a solution, by any means, but it was all she could manage right now.

And so it was this night, as she lay in bed, legally drunk. That creeping sound was coming from the attic again; just like it did every night.

_It's just the house settling. Calm down and go to sleep._

The phone jolted her awake the next morning. Vanessa looked at the clock and saw it was 11:30. With a raging hangover, she picked up the phone and groggily said,

"Hello?"

"Vanessa Martinez?"

"Yes?" she asked.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything; is now a good time to talk?" the voice inquired.

"That depends on what you want to talk about; you're not a reporter, are you?"

So many had been calling her lately that she knew it was just a matter of time before she'd have to change her number.

"I can assure you, I am not. My name is Lucius Fox; I'm CEO of Wayne Enterprises. My employer, Bruce Wayne, asked me to get in touch with you regarding a job opening in our IT Department."

_B is for Bruce, isn't it? So, that's who had the house cleaned, the security system installed and paid the mortgage and utilities while I was in the asylum?_

"Mr. Fox, forgive me; I don't understand. Why is Bruce Wayne so interested in me?" she asked.

"Vanessa, if we're going to work together, I must insist you call me Lucius," he said in a gentle tone. "Mr. Wayne is a man who admires courage, and you have a great deal of it. If you're going to straighten out our IT Department, believe me, you'll need it."

"Lucius, tell Mr. Wayne that I appreciate all he's done for me; really I do, but I'm hardly a charity case."

"Nor would he or I treat you as one; which is why I'm prepared to offer you _less_ than what you were earning at Gotham University. You'll get no special treatment from me, Mrs. Martinez."

"Well; when you put it that way, who could refuse?" Vanessa asked.

"I'm glad to hear that you're open to the idea, but my intent is not to rush you. Take the week to think about it; if you're still interested, give me a call, and we can discuss a possible start date. How does that sound?"

Vanessa was choked up. Tears came to her eyes, this time caused by happiness.

"It sounds great…thank you, and thank Mr. Wayne, for _everything_," she said, unable to hide her elation.

"No; thank you, Vanessa. I'm confident you'll be a tremendous asset to Wayne Enterprises, and I look forward to speaking with you again soon."

They ended their conversation and Vanessa hung up the phone, feeling hope for the first time in months. Everything was going to be okay; she was going to put her life back together.

She walked into the bathroom and turned the shower on, letting the water get as hot as she could stand. After undressing, she stepped into the shower and let the warm water cascade over her body. She never thought she'd take so much pleasure in shaving her legs. She didn't even have access to a shower in the asylum, and there was no way they would let her have a razor. Vanessa couldn't help but wonder why Jonathan had been attracted to her in the first place; three months of not shaving left her feeling more like a yeti than a woman. The first time she had shaved her legs when she got home, she thought she would need a weed whacker instead of a disposable razor.

She could have stayed in that shower forever, lost in her own thoughts, but the prospect of a $200 heating bill forced her out.

Vanessa slipped her blue cotton bathrobe over her shoulders, and towel dried her hair. She felt invigorated and ready to face the day. She pulled some socks and underwear from the dresser and turned towards the walk-in closet for some fresh clothes.

When she opened the door, she was face-to-face with a madman.

**Author's Note: Hello everyone, hope you're all doing well.**

**As always, thank you Not Human for your wonderful input. I think the flow of the story has vastly improved since you came along. **

**I'm sorry to say that my story is gradually coming to an end.  But we're going to have some wild times before it's all said and done.**

**Special thanks to all who read and review. You guys are the best!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins**

Vanessa couldn't move; she could hardly breathe.

_No, this can't be happening_.

Finally taking action, she began to back away from him slowly. The whole situation didn't seem real. He wasn't even looking directly at her; he was glancing over her shoulder. Vanessa was tempted to turn around and see what held his gaze, but dared not take her eyes off him.

For a man who was supposed to have been on the run for the past two weeks, he seemed to be holding up quite well. He was clean shaven and appeared well fed; had he actually gained weight since she'd seen him last? He was wearing her husbands clothing and, if her nose was correct, his aftershave as well.

"How did you get in here? It's not possible; the security system was armed," she said in disbelief.

"I was here when they installed it; I've been here for quite a while now," he answered as he drew his gaze upward.

Unable to stand it any longer, Vanessa turned around. The three-by-three entrance to the attic, located in the hallway, lay open; along came the realization that the creaking she'd been hearing at night was not the house settling after all. Vanessa could picture him moving through her home while she slept, quietly going through her husband's things; watching her. It was a horrible thought. Why hadn't he made a move until now?

"What do you want, Jonathan?" she asked.

"What any doctor wants, what's best for my patients."

"I don't understand."

"I've been watching you, Vanessa – watching you long enough to know that you try to drown your sorrows in alcohol; long enough to know that you cry yourself to sleep most nights. Did you think I would just ignore your cries for help? You need me, Vanessa. Don't you think our therapy ended too soon?" he asked as he began to move towards her.

Vanessa shook her head and was careful to keep her tone calm and even as she spoke

"You're not my doctor anymore, Jonathan. I don't have to answer your questions. You need to leave now, or I'll call the police."

Seeming to ignore what she had just said, he pointed at his clothing and asked, "How do I look?"

The question was a trap, posed only to incite anger, but she couldn't help falling right into it. He had no right to brazenly claim her husband's belongings as his own.

"He won't need these things any longer; I didn't think he'd mind if I helped myself," Jonathan taunted.

Her husband had been over six feet tall and weighed 200 pounds – Jonathan was positively swimming in the clothing.

"With that over-sized shirt, you could pass for a flying squirrel," she said in as obnoxious a tone as possible. "Or maybe a little boy who raided daddy's closet."

Jonathan's smile quickly faded, turning to a scowl. He lunged for her, and Vanessa turned on her heels, running for the hallway.

_If I can just reach that panic button**…**_

The button was mere inches from her reach when he pulled her outstretched arm away from the control panel and slammed her against the opposite wall with strength only the mad possess. Vanessa screamed once before his hand covered her mouth. He was holding something long and silver in his other hand; Vanessa couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it before. She recognized what it was as Jonathan raised it above his head – the stainless steel flashlight she kept in the basement. He brought it down forcefully, catching her on top of the head. She slid down the wall, coming to rest on the floor, dazed from the impact but still awake. Jonathan was standing over her, motionless. Vanessa brought her hand to her head; she was shocked by the amount of blood she saw when she pulled it away. She began to crawl along the soft white carpet; watching drops of blood stain the rug as she moved down the hall. Jonathan watched her pathetic attempt at escape until she was a few feet away from him. He caught up to her easily and planted his foot in the middle of her back, pinning her to the floor. He struck her with the flashlight again and again; sometimes hitting her squarely on the head, but mostly striking her neck and shoulders. Vanessa could only wonder why she wasn't unconscious by now.

Knowing that this attack would have to end or she would not survive, Vanessa stopped moving and let her breath become slow and shallow, hoping he would think her dead or unconscious. The plan worked; she heard Jonathan throw the bloody weapon to the floor. He pulled her hair back and his fingers probed her neck, searching for a pulse. When he determined she was still alive, he dragged her back to the bedroom. Somewhere between being dragged across the floor and thrown onto the bed, she really did lose consciousness.

When she awoke, the sun had set. The whole afternoon was gone; she couldn't believe she'd been out for so long. Her hands were bound tightly in front of her, and she strained against the knots to no avail. The only source of light was coming from the bathroom; a toilet flushing was the only sound. Vanessa's head throbbed, she felt like she was in a haze. Her back hurt but, more alarmingly, her hips ached more. As she tried to lift her head, Jonathan's form appeared in the doorway and he turned on the bedroom light. Vanessa squinted as her eyes adjusted to the brightness; when they did, she saw a pair of ice-blue, myopic eyes regarding her coldly.

"What have you done?" she asked him with little emotion in her voice.

"Time will tell," he said as he came closer. "You remember your request, don't you?"

His hand stroked her leg and she pulled away from his touch.

_What the hell is he talking about? What request? Oh my god – of all the things his crazed mind could have remembered; why did it have to be that?_

Had he violated her while she was unconscious? That didn't seem like him at all. If he were going to force himself on her, he would want her to be awake so he could enjoy her reaction, wouldn't he?

"Poor Vanessa," he said, leaning over her. "Do you really think _that's_ going to make everything better?"

His hand came to rest on her abdomen and he moved it in a circular motion. Vanessa exploded in fury.

"Shut up, you bastard. Get your hands off me!"

"Oh my; I think I've struck a cord," he laughed.

"I said shut up!" she yelled louder.

Against her protests, he shoved something into her mouth and then wrapped one of her husband's ties around her face to hold this make-shift gag in place. Her mouth was filled with so much fabric that it repeatedly triggered her gag reflex, and she fought the urge to vomit.

"The neighbors will be home any minute now, Vanessa. You'll have to keep it down."

He pulled another tie from his pocket and dangled it in front of her.

"A little added excitement," he said playfully as he covered her eyes.

Having rendered her blind and mute, Jonathan untied her robe and slowly pulled it open as if she were a gift to him. He ran his hands down her torso several times before climbing beside her and forcing her legs apart.

"I brought you something," he whispered. "Can you guess what it is?"

He dragged the object slowly up the length of her right thigh. Vanessa could feel the serrated edge graze across her skin; she knew it was a knife.

_Stay calm; he wants to see your fear._

"I spent night after night in that cold attic, thinking about how I was going to kill you," he said.

Vanessa couldn't help but stiffen at the word _kill_.

"I thought about smothering you with a plastic bag, but that was far too predictable. I could have strangled you; but, that didn't seem right either. A knife, however; it's so personal, and befitting a doctor**…**don't you agree?"

He didn't wait for a reply; with a flick of his wrist, he cut into her leg, leaving a three inch cut on her inner thigh just above the knee. Vanessa arched her back against the pain, but was determined not to cry out.

"Uh-oh; let me kiss it better," he teased.

Settling between her legs, he laved the wound with his tongue. When it was wet with his saliva, he blew against it gently. After the burning sensation of the knife, this felt strangely soothing – that is, until he cut again. Vanessa jumped; her breath quickening as he placed this new mark on her body, two inches above the first. It was now that she did cry out, her screams muffled to all but him. This cycle continued: he would cut her, she would feel his mouth upon her body and then always that cool breath. By the time the knife tore her flesh a fifth time, she was on the verge of hysteria.

_Somebody help me!_

Jonathan was close to the very center of her now; so close. What would happen when he got there? The anticipation alone was worse than any act. She gagged and felt vomit rise to the back of her throat. Knowing she would choke if she didn't, she forced herself to swallow it back down.

Sensing her plight, Jonathan stopped what he was doing and rested his body on top of her. He removed the gag and grabbed a fistful of her hair, thrusting her head back.

"Don't scream," he ordered while pressing the knife against her throat. "Beg, Vanessa; beg for your life."

"No, I won't do it," she said stubbornly.

"Then you'll need incentive," he said in a huff.

She gasped as he rested the knife between her legs; the very tip of it poised to enter her.

"Beg," he growled.

Vanessa had wanted to remain strong so very badly, no matter what he did to her - but every person had their limit, and she had reached hers. She knew he would not stop. This man had no mercy, no morals and no restraint. Even with the blindfold in place, she could feel his eyes on her, hungrily watching her growing fear and desperation – taking pleasure in it. Her breath came in short gasps and, despite her best efforts, she began to cry.

"Please, don't," she pleaded.

"Please don't what?" he asked.

Vanessa could hear the satisfaction in his voice and it crushed her.

"Please, please don't…h-hurt me."

She sounded like a frightened little girl again; just as she had when she'd first met Dr. Lehman and Jim at Arkham.

"He hurt me," she had told them.

_That's what he does, Vanessa; he hurts people._

"Good girl. That's all I wanted to hear," he said and then kissed her roughly. "Well done; you've earned a stay of execution."

He pulled the knife away from her and she heard it drop to the floor. Her sigh of relief was quickly interrupted as he gripped her right leg and wrapped it around his back. With their hips pressed together, she could feel his arousal and accelerated breathing.

"But you said you weren't going to hurt me."

"Correction, I said I wouldn't _kill_ you…yet," he said.

Vanessa struggled to escape him, but with her hands bound and his body pressed against hers, it was impossible.

"Please don't do this," she cried as he let go of her hair and shoved the gag back in her mouth.

_It's the only way he **can **do it. He can't enjoy the act otherwise._

Vanessa shook uncontrollably, like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf. She could feel him tugging at his pants, eagerly trying to pull them down.

"Is this how it was that night, Vanessa?" he asked, the words dripping from his mouth like venom. "I saw this place before everything was cleaned up; pretty gruesome stuff. I saw where your husband was shot. How did it feel knowing that the man who had just murdered your husband was fucking you just a few feet away from his corpse?"

_This is only physical_

"He made you spread your legs wide for him, didn't he? He made you bleed."

_Don't listen to him. Don't let him in your mind. He can't really hurt you unless you let him in._

Just as Vanessa abandoned all hope, the doorbell rang, catching both of them by surprise.

"We have company," Jonathan said cheerfully.

He stopped his assault and climbed off of her. In an unexpected display of respect or compassion, he closed her bathrobe and tied it securely shut.

"I wonder who that could be?" he asked.

Vanessa knew who it was; he came by every two days at the minimum to check in on her. It was Jim.

_No, don't come in here._

"I hate interruptions," Jonathan sighed. "I better go see who that is."

**Author's Note: As always, thank you Not Human for the beta read. You're the best!**

**Special thanks once again to everyone out there for reading and/or reviewing. Thank you, thank you, thank you.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins**

"Get up, Vanessa," Jonathan ordered.

Her body ached; she wasn't going anywhere. Where was she supposed to go, anyway? She couldn't even see.

Running out of patience, Jonathan grabbed her by the hair and pulled her from the bed, accidentally tugging her blindfold off in the process.

"I don't have time for your games right now. Do you really think I don't know who's at your door?"

Of course he knew; it was obvious why he had waited to come after her. He was making a plan; getting a feel for her daily routine, including her visitors. He _wanted_ Jim to be there and that frightened her more than anything else.

Jonathan shoved her into the closet and shut the door behind her. With her hands bound, she was unable to effectively break her fall and landed on her side with a resounding thud. Vanessa lay on the floor feeling utterly helpless. All she could do was listen as Jonathan ran down the stairs. It was quiet for a moment; then the front door opened.

_What am I going to do?_

She heard Jim's voice crying out in alarm, followed by a sound most people would not be able to identify, but she was all too familiar with – steel colliding with a human skull. The sound came to her several times before she covered her ears, unable to listen anymore.

_Please, don't kill him._

The front door slammed shut, causing her to jump. She could hear something, or someone being dragged across the floor; then another deafening silence. Where had Jonathan taken him?

There were only two choices left to her now; give up, or fight. She refused to give up; letting him win was not an option.

_Then focus on what you need to do to get yourself out of here._

She pulled at the tie holding her gag in place and managed to slide it down around her neck; she spit the bulky piece of fabric he had so heartlessly wedged in her mouth onto the floor. Using her teeth, she began to pull at the knots binding her wrists; slowly, they began to loosen and unravel. Someone was coming up the stairs fast. Vanessa's breath caught in her throat.

_Keep going; you're almost there._

Her hands finally free, she stood up as someone entered the bedroom. She crossed her fingers and prayed that by some miracle, it was Jim.

_No; if it were Jim, he'd be calling your name, searching for you._

The door was flung open and she was disheartened, but not surprised, to see Jonathan standing before her. He held the flashlight, dripping with a fresh coat of blood, in one hand and a gun, which she assumed he'd taken from Jim, in the other. He smiled when he saw that she had managed to free herself from her restraints.

"Clever girl," he said as he grabbed her arm and pulled her from the closet.

He pushed her backwards and she landed in a chair in the corner of the room; the same one she'd been thrown in the night those men had attacked her.

"Did you kill him?" Vanessa asked in a panic.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"Did you kill him? Tell me!" she demanded.

"No."

"I don't believe you, Jonathan."

"Then I can't help but wonder why you asked, Vanessa," he laughed. "I have no reason to lie, do I? I still might have a use for him; besides, he has to wait his turn. I believe you were first in line."

Jonathan paced back and forth across the room, never taking his eyes off of her.

"Why does he mean so much to you anyway? How did the two of you become so close?" he asked.

"We're friends; friends care about each other. I don't expect you to understand."

"But he didn't have this place cleaned; he didn't have the security system installed either. That took money, the kind of money you and Sergeant Gordon will never have."

"I don't know who did it," Vanessa said truthfully. "Not that it would be any of your business if I did."

"Now _I'm_ the one who doesn't believe _you_, Vanessa. No one would do something like that out of the goodness of their heart. You're not trying to start you life over with a new man, are you? I don't like the idea of sharing you with someone else."

Vanessa turned away from him; his comments weren't worthy of a response. He leaned over her conspiratorially – the gun still in his hand.

"Whoever he is, I hope you're honest with him. Will you tell him about us?"

He rested his hand against the side of her face and pressed his mouth to her ear "Tell him about your request; it's only fair. He needs to know it was _me_ you asked to replace the child you lost."

"You bastard!" she screamed and slapped him hard across the face.

As Jonathan recoiled from the blow, Vanessa jumped from the chair and made one last attempt to get out of the room. He grabbed her as she passed, and threw her face first against the dresser. He pressed his body against hers and kicked her legs apart.

"You're being naughty, Vanessa. I'm afraid you'll need to be punished."

_Stay calm_.

Vanessa looked down and saw her metal nail file lying on top of the dresser. With as much subtlety as possible, she reached for it. If Jonathan saw her take it, he gave no indication, and she quickly concealed it in the thick sleeve of her oversized robe.

"Now, where were we before Sergeant Gordon so rudely interrupted?" he asked.

_You think you're so damned superior._

"Jonathan?"

"What is it now?" he asked impatiently.

"I don't want to fight with you anymore. I'll do whatever it is you want; but please, not like this. I want to do it on the bed."

He stopped for a moment, considering her request. Slowly, he stepped away from her and allowed her to stand.

"Very well, we don't have to do it like this if it makes you uncomfortable," he said, unable to hide his amusement. "But you can't have the comfort of the bed yet either. You have to _earn_ that privilege."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Start by turning around," he told her.

Vanessa turned to him, looking straight into his eyes. Those eyes; he was once such a stunningly beautiful man – his madness ruined him.

"Give me your hand, Vanessa."

She tentatively put her hand in his. He raised it to his mouth and licked her palm several times, covering it with his saliva. She turned away in disgust as he forced her hand down the front of his pants.

"Touch me," he demanded.

Jonathan rested his head on her shoulder, deliberately focusing his hastening breath on her neck. He voiced his desires softly into her ear; telling her to quicken her strokes or tighten her grip as he saw fit. He watched her eyes every time he issued an order; watching her die a little inside with each new command – or so he thought. Her already aching neck and shoulders protested against the repetitive motion.

_That's why you wanted me to do it; isn't it?_

Without warning, he pushed her away from him "That's enough of that," he said. "Get on your knees."

"Yes, Jonathan," she conceded, and knelt down before him.

Jonathan eyed her suspiciously.

"You're being a little too cooperative, Vanessa. What are you up to?" he asked.

Thinking quickly, she said, "I told you I'd do whatever you ask, but you have to promise me you won't hurt Jim."

Jonathan accepted her response; seeming to find the whole situation quite entertaining. It was all a game to him.

"Very well; I'll make you a deal. You'll be graded on your performance tonight, Vanessa. If you're well behaved, like I know you can be, then Sergeant Gordon will wake up with a raging headache and the knowledge that he failed to protect you. If you disobey me, or fail to live up to past performances, then I'll make you watch while I gut him like a fish. Does that sound fair?"

Vanessa nodded in agreement.

"Good; then get to work, Vanessa. Jim is counting on you."

Jonathan dropped his pants to his ankles and, to her horror, pulled his Scarecrow mask from her dresser drawer, and slipped it over his head.

"Yes, Jonathan," she said as she regarded him apprehensively.

"Call me Scarecrow," he instructed, and gently ran his fingers through her hair.

"Yes, Scarecrow," she responded.

Vanessa let the file slide down her sleeve into her open hand. He was so proud of himself for having beaten her into submission; she couldn't wait to deliver this rude awakening.

Taking her delay as a betrayal of their agreement, he pushed on the back of her head, pressing himself against her mouth.

"Do it," he demanded.

_Oh, don't worry; I'll do it alright….._

Vanessa drove the file into his groin with a stabbing motion. Jonathan let out a series of high pitched wails and fell to the floor, holding himself. He still held the gun in his right hand, but she couldn't risk getting close enough to fight him for it. She had to get out of here now. Vanessa fled the bedroom and ran towards the control panel of her home security system. She was successful in pressing the panic button this time; the police were on their way, but she was hardly going to sit in the kitchen with a cup of tea, waiting for them to arrive

Jonathan was cursing at her, and she screamed when she heard the gun go off. A small hole appeared in the wall; inches from where she had just been standing. Vanessa ran down the stairs; Jonathan's screams were still echoing through the house, although they were becoming less intense. She was two feet from the front door when she stopped dead in her tracks.

_Jim_

She couldn't leave him here alone with Jonathan. Now that he had nothing left to lose, he would kill Jim for sure, just out of spite. It was then that Vanessa noticed that Jonathan's agonized screams had ceased completely. The house was quiet again. Her time was up; she had to find Jim quickly.

He was in the living room; his hands tied behind his back and a gag in his mouth. Blood poured from an ugly cut on his scalp, but he was alive. Vanessa untied him and tried to shake him awake.

"Wake up, Jim. Get up!"

There was no response.

_Okay; I guess I'll have to drag you._

She grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him across the floor, thankful she had wood flooring that was easy to slide him across.

"Vanessa?" Jim moaned.

"Shh, we're getting out of here; it's going to be okay."

"Forget about me, Vanessa; just go," he told her.

"No way, buddy; I'm not leaving you here alone."

"Run, Vanessa," he yelled urgently.

"I'm not going to argue with you now, Jim. I won't leave you behind."

"No. Behind you, Vanessa; run!"

By the time she turned around, it was too late. Jonathan was already staggering down the stairs. The Scarecrow mask still covered his face – his gun was pointed directly at her.

"You little bitch; I'm going to kill you slowly," he hissed at her through that burlap countenance.

"Vanessa, my leg," Jim whispered.

_What? This nut has a gun drawn on me and you're complaining about leg pain?_

"I have a service revolver strapped to my leg," he continued as he pulled up his pant leg.

Much to their dismay, the holster was empty.

"Looking for the other gun, are we?" Jonathan asked. "In case you're wondering, I left it upstairs. Some may think me crazy; but I'm not stupid, Sergeant Gordon."

Jonathan stepped into the living room, his gun now pointed at Jim.

"Age before beauty; you get to die first, Jim – may I call you Jim? After listening to your conversations with Vanessa over the past two weeks, I feel like I know you personally"

Knowing she was the one Jonathan _really_ wanted, Vanessa took off towards the kitchen.

As she'd predicted, he followed her immediately, jumping over Jim as if he weren't even there.

Vanessa was being driven by fear. She had no plan, no real idea of where she was going or what she was doing – she just wanted to get away. He caught up to her so fast; she could almost feel his breath on the back of her neck as she rounded the corner into the dining room. Her foot caught on the edge of an area rug, and she took three awkward steps before recovering her stride; it was all the time Jonathan needed to catch up with her. He turned her around and drove his fist into her stomach. Vanessa doubled over and fell to the floor. She'd never been punched in the stomach before; was it supposed to hurt this much?

She looked down and saw the blood stain rapidly spreading down the front of her robe. There was the knife, protruding from her gut; only the hilt was still visible.

**Author's Note: Hi everyone. I hope you all had a wonderful February. **

**Only two chapters left before we reach the end. Parting is such sweet sorrow; but I have begun a little Red-Eye fanfic, so I'm excited about that.**

**A special thanks to Not Human for the beta read. You're the best!**

**Thanks to all who read and/or review (golden peaches, BregoBeauty, tharpina, xOx Samantha, dreamer 0110, and anyone else I forgot to mention.) I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins**

Vanessa had never felt such pain. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe; it was all she could do to keep from screaming. When she opened them once more, she saw Jonathan. He'd removed his mask, and watched her with a morbid curiosity.

"What are you waiting for Jonathan? You've got the gun; why don't you finish me off?" she asked.

He took a step toward her, the gun leveled straight at her head. He held it there for a while, reveling in the moment before dropping his arm to his side. Instead of shooting her, he reached down, gripped the handle of the knife, and pulled it from her body.

Vanessa couldn't help but notice that the knife hurt more coming out than it had going in. Blood poured from the gaping wound and she felt herself slowly fading away.

"It's much more interesting this way," Jonathan said coldly - a smug look of satisfaction covered his face.

She was so tired; tired of fighting the good fight – tired of everything. Her body wanted to give in to the overwhelming need for sleep that she was feeling, but her mind told her to keep fighting and stay awake. She saw the knife lying on the ground next to her where Jonathan had so carelessly dropped it. Vanessa closed her eyes again and listened to her body – she felt her breathing slow as her pulse weakened. It was almost over.

Jonathan approached her and nudged her with his foot - she did not respond. He knelt over her and touched her face softly, and she thought she heard him sigh in relief.

"_You think you've won, don't you?" _she thought as she gripped the knife and swung blindly.

The sound of Jonathan screaming told her that she had inflicted some damage at the very least. When she opened her eyes, she saw him sprawled on his back – clutching his face.

_At least I spoiled those good looks_

But her victory was fleeting; she really _was_ tired now and her vision became blurry. Death threatened to take her in that moment. Only the sound of glass shattering in her living room roused her from her sleep once again.

"She's back there," she heard a voice say urgently. She wasn't even aware of who it was who had spoken.

Vanessa looked over to where Jonathan had been lying, only to discover he was gone. Her kitchen door stood wide open and a cold draft poured in. A figure in black ran past her in pursuit, but stopped cold when he saw her on the floor, bleeding heavily. He approached her with a grim determination and said, in a gravelly voice, to hold on. She felt something warm being pressed against her stomach; the sound of police sirens filled the air. Despite her best efforts, she could not fight the sleep that overtook her this time.

"_Am I dead?_" she wondered as she woke up in a bright room, surrounded by flowers. As her eyes focused, the all too familiar stark, white hospital room came into view.

_Ah, my home away from home_.

She thought about paging one of the nurses and letting them know she was awake, but decided against it. Vanessa sat in bed, enjoying what would likely be her last quiet moments before the police descended on her with their endless stream of questions. Sure enough, her door opened quietly thirty minutes later, and Jim entered, carrying yet another basket of fresh flowers. He looked overjoyed when he saw she was awake.

"Vanessa!" he almost yelled.

"Hey, Jim; are you alright?" she asked, taking notice of the stitches in his forehead.

"Am _I _alright? Am _I _alright?" he laughed, before his tone turned serious. "I told you to run, Vanessa. You damn near got yourself killed trying to save my life" He was scolding her now, as if she were one of his children.

"Now we're even, I guess."

He rolled his eyes and placed the flowers on the desk beside her.

"You drive me nuts sometimes," he mumbled. "These came for you this morning. Somebody's been sending you quite an assortment," he said as he winked, and handed her the card.

_**Vanessa,**_

_**My offer still stands. Get well soon.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Lucius Fox**_

_Well, I'll be damned._

"Vanessa, I won't beat around the bush," Jim said solemnly. "Crane was _not_ apprehended. He vanished without a trace."

"Did you check my attic?" Vanessa laughed sardonically, and clutched her side after doing so.

"This is serious. You'll need to be guarded on a twenty-four hour basis if we're going to keep you safe."

"Really, and who's going to pay for that? I sure as hell can't afford it!"

"It's already taken care of," Jim told her.

"Let me guess….my guardian angel?"

Vanessa had spent another week in the hospital before finally being discharged. She never went back to her townhouse. She stayed with Jim and his family at their insistence, and he would frequently make trips to her home to retrieve her personal belongings.

One month after her showdown with Jonathan, she began working part-time at Wayne Enterprises. Her top priority was meeting this Bruce Wayne face-to-face. From what she had read in the papers, he was a drunken playboy, whose most recent achievement had been burning down his own home. If he thought that all he had to do was throw some money at her and she would jump into bed with him, then he had another thing coming. Vanessa had stormed into his office on her first day of employment, and told him as much to his face. He had smiled at her, his eyes beaming, and told her his intentions were pure.

"Okay then; I'm glad we cleared that up. Thank you for your time," Vanessa said as professionally as possible, suddenly feeling embarrassed for having made the accusation. She quickly turned to leave the room.

"Vanessa," he called after her.

_Great; he's going to fire me…me and my big, fat mouth._

"Yes?" she asked, keeping her cool.

"You're an ill-tempered, feisty, pain-in-the-ass, aren't you?"

"I guess you could say that," she laughed as she turned to leave again.

Clearly, he was not finished. He rose from his chair and approached her.

"Some people hate that about you; they'd like nothing more than to stamp out those qualities – but some people….some people _love_ you for it," he had said as he opened the door for her. Vanessa smiled, and they parted ways without exchanging another word.

They had gone out casually on several occasions since then. She was unable to give him anything more than friendship at this point, but he made it clear that he was content to wait patiently, no matter how long it took, and never once pressured her. When she had told him she was pregnant with Jonathan's child, he had remained undaunted – telling her he would be there for her, no matter what she decided.

As for Jonathan; if he were lurking about somewhere, he had not made his presence known. For all intents and purposes, he was a ghost. So Vanessa focused on putting her life back together and continued meeting with her therapist twice a week. What else could she do, really?

She was enjoying the time she spent with Bruce, and could not deny her growing feelings for him. As she entered the coffee shop on that cold December afternoon, he stood and greeted her cheerfully.

"I got you a latte, decaffeinated, of course," he said.

Vanessa took it from him thankfully. He placed his hand on her ever expanding waistline; tenderness radiated from his eyes.

"Two more months," he said, and kissed her softly on the cheek.

Vanessa sat down, feeling truly content for the first time in almost a year. She stared lazily out the window; letting her gaze fall on a gentleman with blonde hair. His back was to her and she watched as he stepped into his black BMW and slowly drove away.

_Finally, some peace…_..

**Author's Note: Well, we've come to an end…or have we?**

**A special thanks to Not Human for the beta read. I am very thankful for your guidance and help with my punctuation skills. I've come a long way because of you!**

**I hope you all enjoyed my first story and hopefully you'll check out the sequel as well. Thanks for your reviews and your interest in general.**


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